


Running Out of What Really Matters

by Traumedic



Category: Animaniacs
Genre: And not so terminal illnesses, Angst, Big brother Wakko. Ya love to see it, Character Development, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Bonding, Terminal Illnesses, Wakko's Wish, pre-wakko's wish, there is like...no real plot to this...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traumedic/pseuds/Traumedic
Summary: As Acme Falls becomes poorer and poorer, it's harder for the Warners to get the supplies needed to survive. Yakko feels the weight of the world on his shoulders as he tries his best to keep his siblings alive and (relatively) healthy.
Relationships: Dot Warner & Wakko Warner & Yakko Warner
Comments: 44
Kudos: 90





	1. Scraps of Hope, Scraps of Supplies

Most things in life, Yakko was beginning to realize, were insidious—at least in the beginning. Whether it be the way Salazar had taken his time, remained quiet as he gathered enough weapons, men, and power to storm the castle the Warners had once called home, or, more recently, the way the baron in Acme Falls, Baron Von Plotz, was draining the town dry of its money and livelihood. 

And now? Yakko could add Dot's increasingly apparent and terminal illness. What had started off as an occasional cough had progressed into something so debilitating that it often left her bedridden for consecutive days in a row as she got her strength back little by little. Some days his little sister could do anything and everything, others it was a miracle if she could stay awake long enough to eat something before fatigue claimed her and she went back to sleep. 

It was that last addition to the list that wracked Yakko with a guilt so suffocating it felt like an anvil rested atop his lungs. How much longer until his sister was so weak that she didn’t even have the strength to draw air into her own lungs? How long until her body had so little energy or strength that her heart no longer had the reserves to beat? 

Yakko was just one person, one _teenager_ , desperately trying to keep two younger siblings alive and well. A logical part of his brain knew that he couldn't possibly know everything, he wasn't omniscient, but emotionally? That was another story entirely. 

It would be a lie to say it didn't tear Yakko up inside because he _wasn't_ a parent or a legitimate provider in the common sense of the word. And it was because he wasn't a parent that he had no idea what to do, and had no one to turn to for advice, no one that he actually trusted. He was a teen taking care of two younger children that relied on him because the three of them no longer had parents to help keep them alive and taken care of. He was trying, failing miserably, but he was trying _damn it_. 

He just wished that meant something in the long run. 

\- 

Today, at the very least, was one of Dot's better days. The Warner sister sat across from Wakko as the middle sibling took time to fold a paper advertisement into....something. Yakko wasn't able to make it out just yet. Wakko had only recently started this hobby, having learned from a caravan that had traveled through town—and had left almost as soon as they had learned the _entire town_ was broke. It had taken them long enough to realize that Wakko had finagled a trade: they taught him what fun tricks they knew, and Wakko would tell them who had the most money in town. It was Dr. Scratchansniff, and he wasn’t one to spend cash on frivolities like this particular caravan boasted. 

At least it now gave Wakko something to do, as he added his own flair to the origami pieces, and it entertained Dot as she tried to guess what it would be before he finished. Paper, or at least paper advertisements, were plentiful as businesses closed, opened, closed, back and forth in a cycle that was as depressing as it was maddening. When would the Baron realize that, once he drained the town completely dry, he would no longer have a source of income? This had shifted from a slow bleed, to a hemorrhage of the town’s money, and the town was on its last legs. 

"Final guess?" Wakko had hidden his latest origami creation under his cap so Dot couldn't sneak any glances and cheat. 

Dot's face scrunched as she mulled it over. "Is it a...." She hummed for a moment longer, "Dwarf?" It’d looked humanoid, and with the way Wakko had been reading a book of fairytales lately, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d pulled inspiration from there. 

Wakko raised his cap with a dramatic flourish, "Close! A goblin. Like from the storybook." He’d confirmed her suspicions, to a degree regarding the book, and she had to admit, it looked nearly identical to the picture. 

"If you hadn't told me, I was going to say it was a short Yakko." At this, both of the younger siblings laughed. 

For once, Dot was able to get through her laughter without a coughing fit interrupting it. Small miracles. It was something Yakko never thought he would notice or be thankful for, but there he was, not miffed at Dot's slight, but instead _thankful_ she was faring better today. 

Yakko watched Dot take the origami goblin in her hands, looking it over as she handled it with care. "How do you do this?" She questioned Wakko, "It seems so complicated." 

Wakko gave a shrug. "I don't know how to describe it." And he didn't. He knew as soon as he tried to verbalize it, the words would get all jumbled in his head. "But I can show you step by step if you want." 

"Really?" Dot brightened at the offer. It seemed the list of things she could do without taxing herself became fewer and fewer as time went on. She was eager to jump on anything that she could still do, even if it wasn't for very long. 

"Sure!" Wakko pulled two sheets off of a stack he had next to him, advertisements for a general store that had gone out of business three weeks prior. He slid a sheet in front of Dot, and left one in front of himself. 

It filled Wakko with a sense of pride that he would be able to teach Dot a skill. It seemed so rare that Wakko knew something Yakko and Dot didn't. The two of them seemed to exist on a similar wavelength, while Wakko existed on a different one entirely. 

"Alright, so, we're going to try a flower first." Something simple and cute, he silently hoped and prayed Dot would enjoy it. Wakko was better at showing than explaining, but he did his best as the two began to fold their respective papers. 

Yakko watched them from where he was seated next to the table; for once the eldest sibling remained silent, not wanting to ruin the moment playing out in front of him. Once again, he was struck with the intense longing that his siblings, at the very least, weren't stuck in their current situation. Yakko would easily and gladly trade his happiness for theirs. Whatever he had to do to get his sister the surgery she needed and his brother into a home with plenty of food he would do....if he just knew what that was and how to begin. 

Not the for the first time, and certainly not the last, Yakko fancied the daydream of taking Salazar down a peg or two. Though, as swiftly as the thought came, Yakko dismissed it with a shake of his head. He wasn't going to do anything that could get his siblings hurt, nor that could get himself hurt to where he could no longer provide for his siblings. Yakko glanced about the inside of the water tower they resided in, not that he was providing even _close_ to enough. 

He needed to reinforce the wood in more than a few spots of the water tower, as time passed the wood got wet and moldy and splintered, and no longer kept the wind out. 

But. Yakko had no planks of wood, no nails that weren't rusty or bent, and no hammer. 

As if to add insult to injury, a gust of wind shook the water tower and dropped the inside temperature down a solid eight degrees. 

And then, as if to kick Yakko while he was already down, Dot shuddered and drew her shawl tighter around herself, followed by a painful sounding cough that had both brothers wincing in sympathy. 

Yakko needed to get a job or at the very least, some supplies. Jobs were becoming fewer and fewer, and the wages they offered were less and less. 

The worried look Wakko shot Yakko's way while Dot wiped at the tears that had sprung up while she'd coughed only compounded Yakko’s drive and worry in equal measure. 

Wakko hesitated for a moment before he placed a hand on Dot's shoulder, concern permeated his tone as he spoke next. "Maybe we should get you to bed." 

"I'm not tired." Dot argued, her voice hoarse. It was a lie, she _was_ tired and she was cold, but she was having fun doing origami with Wakko and for once Yakko wasn't out killing himself to provide for them in some shape, form, or fashion. She wanted to enjoy the small moments like this while she could, before she was too weak to ever get back out of bed. 

Wakko grimaced, but he didn't want to argue with his sister, his thoughts following a similar vein as his sister's. "Alright." 

Yakko, on the other hand, was willing to be the 'bad guy' if it meant keeping his sister from exacerbating her symptoms due to the sudden chill in their home. Just another one of the crosses he beared. Yakko heaved a near silent sigh, "Dot," He stood, approaching his younger siblings. Both Wakko and Dot looked up at him, though Dot was already frowning. It wouldn't be a surprise to Yakko if Dot already knew where this was headed. 

"I'm not tired." She repeated, firmer this time. Yeeeep, she already knew. 

Yakko groaned internally, couldn't things go without a fuss or fight for _once_ in his life? No. No, it couldn't. "It's cold in here." 

"It's cold _everywhere_." Dot retorted, "So I might as well stay here." 

Even if the Warner siblings didn't look damn near the same, it would be impossible to say Dot wasn't a Warner with the innate stubbornness she possessed. It was both a blessing and a curse. Right now? It was a curse, a damn blight. 

"It would be warmer under the blankets." Yakko argued. 

"You just want me to go to bed." 

Yes and no. Go to bed and be warmer? Yes. Just go to bed where she would eventually sleep and then he'd spend the rest of the night worrying if she would die in her sleep? No. But he wasn't going to voice such concerns and depress his younger siblings. 

"I want you to be warm. In fact," Yakko turned his gaze to Wakko. The last thing he needed was _two_ sick siblings. "Wakko should follow suit." 

Wakko opened his mouth to argue, he definitely wasn't tired, but he realized that perhaps Yakko was simply getting onto Wakko's case to get Dot in bed if Wakko agreed to go to bed himself. If Wakko went to bed, that would be one less argument Dot could use against Wakko—and truth be told, Wakko was a little cold. 

"Fine. But you have to tell me a story—and not the boring one Dot likes." 

If looks could kill, Wakko would have been vaporized into a pile of ash thanks to his little sister. 

"I'll go to bed, _but_ you have to tell the 'boring story that I like'." Dot spoke up, offering a grin that was all teeth towards the middle sibling. 

Yakko could accept that. "Sounds fair." As long as Dot went to bed, he would jump through whatever hoops it took. 

Now Wakko was actually excited, it had been a while since Yakko had possessed the time and energy to give both of them a story, and there was no way Wakko would be so selfish as to demand he get a story instead of Dot. 

Wakko jumped up to get the book of fairytales he'd scavenged. While Wakko didn't enjoy reading as much as Dot or Yakko, he did enjoy being read to and looking at the pictures interspersed throughout the book. 

Dot stood up, taking a moment to gather the origami figures Wakko and herself had folded. She had enjoyed making things with Wakko, and one day she wouldn't be so fragile that a bit of wind would make her feel worse and throw her into a fit. Then she and Wakko could make more complex figures together and maybe use them to make their own stories with. 

She had to believe that it would happen, that it was a genuine possibility in her future. What other option was there? Giving up? Dot nearly snorted at that option. She was a _Warner_ , she wasn't one to surrender when things got tough. 

Dot set the paper figures on their makeshift table, right in the middle so they weren't as liable to be knocked off and get crushed underfoot. Though, after a moment of deliberation she collected the flowers that her and Wakko had first folded together. Hers was nowhere near as good, it was obvious she was new to it, a million little extra creases where she’d folded, unfolded, and then refolded, where Wakko's was well-made and neat—surprising since it was from the 'messiest' sibling. She took both flowers with her to her 'room', the corner of the water tower they'd partitioned for her, and set the origami flowers on the table next to her bed, before she moved the candle to a corner of said tablle, further from the flammable pieces. She didn't want to lose what herself and Wakko had created together. 

It wasn't long before Wakko hurried in, book in hand, followed by Yakko. All three siblings squeezed onto Dot's bed, both Wakko and Dot nestled under the covers, as Yakko laid on top of them. He still had things to do after this, and he didn't want to disturb his siblings by throwing off the covers later. 

Yakko started with Wakko's story, if only to get his younger brother to stop wiggling so much he was nearly vibrating with sheer excitement. 

\- 

Both siblings were out like lights before Yakko even finished with the story Wakko had requested. Yakko closed the book with care, not wanting to wake them. Yakko placed a kiss to the foreheads of both siblings before he slid out of bed, setting the book on the table next to the origami figures. It was late, but maybe Yakko could head out and find some sort of supplies, something, _anything_ to help the family out. 

Yakko spared one last look to his siblings—Wakko still had his cap on, though it had been pushed down enough that it covered his eyes entirely as his tongue lolled out of his mouth, while Dot was hugging a pillow like she used to hug Yakko’s arm when the three of them all shared a bed to keep warm—before he slipped outside, easing the door shut behind him. 

The chill that immediately greeted Yakko had the eldest sibling wishing he had a jacket and that winter would be swift—the latter sentiment would benefit all of the Warners, Dot moreso than himself or Wakko. If Yakko had the money for a jacket, he wouldn’t have even bought one, instead he would have put the money towards food or hopefully towards the surgery Dot needed oh-so-desperately. 

For now, Yakko wasn’t going to stray too far from the water tower, not when both siblings were asleep and Wakko didn’t know it was up to him look after himself and his sister. It was too late at night to do any viable hunting or even gathering, but it was perfect for the other idea he had in mind. He headed towards the town, and it was late enough at night that Yakko was the only one out and about, the lanterns set up around the square offered only the sources of light, which were dismal at best. 

This was something Yakko wasn’t proud of, but his destination wasn’t a store that happened to allow late night visitors, but instead the dumpsters that sat in the alleyways next to said stores. The Warners were poor and desperate, and desperate times called for ever increasingly desperate measures. 

Yakko couldn’t help but snort at this predicament as he headed into the alleyway. The once crown prince was now dumpster diving for scraps. If his parents could see him now, what would they say? Would they lecture him on how horrid he was at keeping his siblings alive and healthy? Would they even talk to him with the amount of shame he must be heaping onto the Warner name? 

Yakko shoved such dismal thoughts out of his head as he lifted the lid to the dumpster. As long as his siblings weren’t ashamed to call Yakko their eldest brother he would shoulder any weight and do whatever embarrassing tasks that needed to be done to keep them alive. He couldn’t even add ‘and well’ to that statement, not with Dot faring as poorly as she was. 

Soggy cardboard boxes made up a good majority of the dumpster’s contents, and if it wasn’t for the smell that permeated from the cardboard, Yakko would have considered using it as a stopgap measure to cover the numerous holes in the wooden walls of their home. They already lived in a shithole, he wasn’t going to make it _smell_ like one. 

Yakko had to dig for solid three minutes before he finally came across something of use: a skein of thread and a bolt of cloth. The cloth was an ugly, splotchy amalgamation of colors, but it was cloth nonetheless, and Yakko was certain they could find a use for it somewhere. It was as he reached to grab it he heard a door to the shop open; he looked up, just making out the shadow of the man who owned the shop. Instead of being caught and perceived for his dumpster diving crimes, Yakko hopped into the dumpster, hiding behind some of the smelly cardboard with the skein clutched to his chest. 

Yakko waited with bated breath as the owner took the time to lock up all three ( _three?? Really?!_ ) separate locks and puttered off towards his home. As good a find as the skein was, he now smelled like the contents of the dumpster. 

Yakko’s nose wrinkled at the smell, there was no way it would simply ‘wear off’, and if his siblings caught a whiff, they would hound him for _days_ on where he went and why he went there without them. 

He was going to have to take a dunk in the river. In winter. In the middle of the night. 

Why did life hate him so? He’d always thought he’d possessed a rakish charm, but apparently life didn’t seem to think so. 

Yakko clambered out of the dumpster once he was certain the owner of the shop was no longer nearby, though he lowered the lid with care, not wanting it to slam and draw even the _slightest_ bit of attention from the town’s denizens. 

Yakko hurried back to the water tower, dropping of the thread and cloth before he headed towards the river. 

Between the snow that dusted the ground and the way Yakko could see his own exhalations, the eldest sibling _knew_ this was going to be miserable. He lifted an arm and sniffed at his fur. 

“Eugh...” 

Yeah, the freezing water was _definitely_ preferable to the smell. 

Without further ado, Yakko rushed into the water, if he started ‘slow’ he would never submerge himself fully like he needed to. 

The stream of expletives that followed once he popped up and out of the water weren’t befitting a would-be crown prince, but luckily for Yakko, no one else knew who he was, and no one else was even around. 

Yakko was quick to scrub at his fur, not leaving the river until he didn’t smell like rotting fish and moldy cardboard. 

It was just after Yakko shook all the water that he could from his fur that he let out a sneeze loud enough to frighten the birds from theirs nests, and Yakko could only groan when he realized he wasn’t feeling his best. Of all the times to catch a cold, and he sincerely hoped it was a cold, now was _far_ from a good time. 

“Shit.” Yakko muttered as he hurried back to the water tower. Now it was his turn to try and get warm, hopefully he could stave off a worse cold with quick action. 

_Shit_ Yakko thought it this time as he opened the door to the water tower and both siblings were awake. With Dot sitting up, face flushed, as Wakko rested a comforting hand on her back, fighting back a concerned look, it wasn’t hard to surmise she’d woke both of them up with another coughing fit. 

They looked up when Yakko approached. 

“Where were you?” Dot accused, only to delve into another fit. 

He was never going to tell them he was dumpster diving, instead the eldest sibling took a seat at the end of the bed. 

“Taking a bath in the river. You don’t know the true meaning of ‘ice in your veins’ until you do it at night in the middle of the coldest month of the year.” Sort of a joke, sort of dead serious. 

“Why?” 

“Needed to mask my scent for hunting in the morning.” Though...with the way he was starting to feel, the prospect of hunting was less and less likely. “But I’m here now.” 

Dot frowned, studying Yakko’s face because she wasn’t _quite_ sure she believed him, but she couldn’t truly disprove what he’d said either. Instead, she shifted to the side, patting the space between herself and Wakko. 

She didn’t have to do that twice, Yakko climbed into bed between his two siblings, smiling softly as the two of them snuggled in close without hesitation. 

He could rest, for now. In the morning, well, hopefully he’d feel well enough to do some hunting.


	2. Stepping Out of His Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakko suffers, as is his lot in life, Wakko steps up as the second older brother.

Life continued to remind Yakko just how much it hated him and his family personally. 

The all over ache he’d felt the night before had only intensified tenfold by the time he cracked one eye open. The sunlight streaming in felt like it was stabbing a dagger right into his retina, and he wished he could just go back to sleep and had the ability to shirk his responsibilities. 

But he did not have such luxury. 

Yakko lifted his head, wincing at the throbbing pain that shot up his neck and seemed to encase his skull. Both of his siblings were still sound asleep, though Dot’s wheezing on inspiration and expiration were louder than normal. All part of the cycle that the Warners were finding out the hard way. Her symptoms seemed to get worse the colder and wetter it was outside, and alleviated slightly in the warmer, dryer seasons. 

Dot clung to Yakko’s arm in her sleep, and Wakko had somehow turned one-hundred eighty degrees in his sleep, with his feet only a few inches from Yakko’s head. It was a miracle the middle sibling hadn’t kicked him in the midst of sleeping, though Wakko _was_ pawing at the air with both of his hands. 

Yakko needed to get up, to scavenge some sort of breakfast for them, needed to come up with some way to explain the sudden acquisition of cloth and thread. They didn’t have much in the way of money—what they _did_ have Yakko had tucked away and was used for food and other items integral to their survival. His siblings wouldn’t believe he’d made such a purchase while none of their preferred clothing choices had holes, other than his glove, but the material discrepancy would only drive him crazy if he tried to repair his glove with some of the cloth he’d scrounged. 

But on the other hand…his siblings looked so peaceful and the mere thought of moving and getting up sent a wave of nausea through him. He knew that was part excuse, part truth. Right now, he wasn’t certain which part was winning out, either way, Yakko still didn’t budge. 

The all-over body aches, the pounding migraine, the nausea…was this what being old felt like? If so, no wonder adults complained so much. 

Get up. Time to get up. Get _up._

The mantra did little to motivate Yakko enough to do what he needed to do most. Though, wasn't imagining or at least thinking about doing it half the battle or some other such nonsense? It did absolutely nothing to put food on the table or put money in their pockets. 

Yakko glared at a hole in the side of the water tower that they called home, or more _accurately_ , glared at the sunlight streaming through said hole. Right now, the ability to blast the Sun apart with laser beams from his eyes, or even just turning day into night would have been a blessing. The light only made his head throb more. 

Yakko closed his eyes, letting his head thump back against the pillow. He would only close them for a few moments, just until the pounding in his entire skull and the nausea in his stomach subsided a tad.

* * *

“He's not looking too good.” Wakko peered down at his older brother from where he stood beside the bed. 

Dot stood next to Wakko, frowning as she regarded their eldest sibling as well. For a type of toon that had fur all over their bodies, Yakko _did_ look rather pale. The more Dot looked, the more she noticed was _off_ with Yakko. The unusual pallor, the sweat that clung to his fur, glistening in the light of the midday sun that streamed in between wooden cracks, the fact that Wakko and Dot moving around and getting up hadn't woken him, the list continued. 

As much as Dot enjoyed commandeering conversations and situations alike—especially if she could use how cute she was to steer whatever the topic at hand was in her favor—she was at a loss on how to ‘fix' their brother. A worried thought struck her: What if Yakko was suffering from whatever illness Dot had? Sure, her own illness had started out as a lingering, persistent cough and Yakko hadn't been afflicted with such a symptom yet, but…what if he just presented with different symptoms than herself? 

“What are we supposed to do now?” Dot murmured, not wanting to wake Yakko. As hard as he pushed himself to keep the family afloat, coupled with the fact that Yakko was usually the first to rise and last to bed, she didn't want to ruin what little rest he was getting at the moment. 

Wakko didn't know. The middle child, as perceptive as he was, never had been asked such a question before on something that _actually_ mattered. Yakko was always the one himself and Dot turned to whenever matters were serious. He couldn’t say that though, not when his baby sister was now looking to _him_ for answers. He just wished he was as quick-witted and persuasive as their older brother. 

“We could…take him to Doctor Scratchansniff.” Wakko suggested after a short pause, he knew they were short on money—who _wasn't_ in their current economy—but getting Yakko feeling better had to count as a ‘necessary evil' and would be worth the cost. It even seemed logical, and if anyone knew what to do to help Yakko it would be Scratchansniff and Nurse. 

“We can't.” Dot spoke up, her frown only deepening. 

Wakko gave his sister a bewildered look, wasn't she worried about Yakko? Didn't she want him to get better? “Why not? We have money—" 

Dot shook her head at that, “Him and Nurse are out trying to sell their newest elixir in the next town over. Supposedly they're doing better than here.” She didn’t sound convinced, but there was no way _every_ town had someone like the selfish and greedy Baron Von Plotz presiding over them and oh-so-eager to bleed the people's wallets dry…right? 

_Any_ town was doing better than Acme Falls, Wakko was sure of it. At this point, how could any be doing _worse_? Though…that did give Wakko an idea… But for now, he needed to help Yakko get to feeling better, without the help of the town's only doctor and nurse. 

“Oh.” Was all Wakko could say to that revelation; there went his one good idea for the day, dismissed as soon as it had appeared. Once again, it felt like Dot and Yakko were _two sides of the same coin_ while Wakko was marooned by himself on a separate coin, one that was likely small in denomination and long abandoned under a dumpster or piece of ratty furniture somewhere long abandoned. What good was he as an older brother to Dot and as a Warner sibling overall if he couldn't even help take charge the rare times when Yakko wasn't able to? 

It hurt to see Dot look down at Yakko with such concern, he'd seen the same exact expression on Yakko in regards to Dot more times than he wanted to think about, it was an image forever burned into his memory, he didn't want the inverse, the expression on his sister's face, burned alongside Yakko's. 

“I'll go out and get food. We should let Yakko rest.” Less of a suggestion and more of a firm decision from the middle child. 

“The shops won't have much this late in the day.” Dot mused, but didn’t argue. Something was better than nothing, after all. 

“I'm not going to the shops.” 

“What?” Dot looked at Wakko like he'd grown a second head. 

“I'm going hunting.” Wakko stated, matter-of-fact. 

“But you just said we have money—” 

“Which we need to save in case Yakko _doesn't_ get better and we have to take him to Scratchy.” Wakko hoped it didn’t come to that. One possibly terminally ill sibling was one too many. There was no way Wakko could hope to provide for the family as well as Yakko did. He made it look so effortless, even though both siblings knew it wasn’t. Yakko just had a way of shouldering the bigger, harder hitting issues like he was born to do it. No matter what life threw at them, Yakko always kept his head held high, Wakko hoped to be able to emulate even a fraction of that one day. 

“You don't like hunting.” Dot offered, though it was a listless rebuttal. She had no solution, no perfect answer that would keep Wakko close to home and put food on the table, not without using what little funds they had remaining. 

Wakko gave a slight nod, “Suffering now to have it easier later.” A phrase they’d heard Yakko utter time and time again—though it was most often said under his breath as he tried to motivate himself to do a task he really, _really_ didn’t want to do. It was a phrase that Yakko didn’t even realize he said, and to that end, didn’t realize Wakko had heard it and was now using it to motivate himself to do something he really, _really_ didn’t want to do. 

Dot grimaced. Wakko knew she was debating on begging him to stay close to him, and Wakko knew he wouldn’t have it in him to say no if she asked. It had always been hard to say no to Dot, it had gotten even harder once they’d realized how sick she was and how that illness wasn’t going to be disappear without medical intervention. 

With a sigh, Dot looked up at Wakko. “I want to go with you.” 

Wakko froze, taking a moment to process what she had just said. She...wanted to go with him? She hated hunting more than Yakko or himself. She was sick. She couldn’t expend even close to the amount of energy needed to hunt and get enough food to make the expenditure worth it. Why was she so desperate to go all of a sudden? 

Dot’s gaze flickered to Yakko for just a moment, before she puffed out her chest. For all her posturing, Wakko could see the dark circles under her eyes, the slight trembling in her frame as she tried to appear as healthy and lively as she used to be, before she’d gotten sick. She was already running on fumes, this would only put her in an energy deficit and Wakko wouldn’t be surprised if that exacerbated her symptoms and left her bedridden for a week. This was the opposite of what he wanted, of what Yakko would want. 

“You need to stay here. I’ll handle the hunting on my own.” Nothing against her company, it would have been nice to have an extra set of hands, and he was certain the time would go by faster with someone else, but it wasn’t worth all the drawbacks. 

His sister’s grimace turned into a scowl. She looked at him like he had just slapped her, “I want to help too!” Dot exclaimed with a stamp of her foot. Both siblings froze after that display, turning their attention towards Yakko, worried that the volume would wake him. For once, luck was on their side, Yakko grimaced, shifted a bit, then settled, still asleep. 

Wakko and Dot let out a soft noise of relief in unison; Wakko placed a gentle, comforting hand on his sister's shoulder. He was well acquainted with the intense, bone-deep desperation to be able to do something, _anything_ that would help the family. He just always felt too slow or too stupid, what was he going to suggest that Yakko hadn’t already thought of and summarily dismissed because of logical and valid reasons? 

“Staying with him _will_ help.” Wakko assured. He didn’t like the idea of leaving, even for a moment, but it **had** to be done. Wakko couldn’t just sit there and twiddle his thumbs as he waited and hoped and prayed that Yakko would recover swiftly. 

Dot didn't look convinced; the youngest Warner crossed her arms as she looked up at Wakko with a frown. “You're just saying that because you think I'm stupid enough to fall for it.” 

“That’s not true.” And it wasn't, but oh Wakko wished that his sister wasn't quite so stubborn. Normally he found it admirable, ~~not that he'd ever openly admit to that, it would only make her even more insufferable at times like these,~~ but now it was frustrating and hindering his attempt to step up as the second older brother and provide for the family. “If Yakko wakes up and neither of us as here, what do you think he'll think?” 

Dot hesitated in answering, knowing where Wakko was leading, but not wanting to confirm that his plan had some validity. Her gaze shifted to the floor as she mumbled, “That something happened to us.” 

If there were two constants in the universe, they would be: Yakko would always be there, and if the sibs happened to be out of his eyesight, he'd be worried about them, whether he'd admit to it or not. 

They needed someone to stay behind, keep an eye on Yakko's condition, and make sure he didn't immediately dive headfirst to the worst conclusions when his siblings weren't right there when he woke up. Between the two of them, Wakko was the obvious choice. He wasn't ill and Yakko had taken him hunting before—not often, Yakko delegated Wakko to stay behind to keep an eye on Dot most of the time and _he was a kid, so he shouldn’t have to worry about things like hunting and putting food on the table_. 

But wasn't Yakko a kid as well? Or, technically, a teenager? He shouldn't be forced to provide either, why couldn't Yakko let Wakko help more? 

Dot crossed her arms, “What if something happens to you?” She questioned, concern and impotent rage at their poor situation permeated her tone in equal measure. 

It was just a risk he was going to have to take. Just like Yakko did every time he went hunting; sure, the eldest sibling had the most experience with it, but Yakko hadn’t been born possessing all the knowledge or skills he did currently. Wakko had to start somewhere, just like Yakko had, and Yakko had enough forethought to even take Wakko under his wing to a degree. 

“Nothing will happen.” Wakko assured. 

“But how do you know for sure?” Dot retorted, placing a hand on her hip as she cocked her head to the side, regarding Wakko with exaggerated suspicion. 

Wakko huffed in irritation. All the incessant questions, no matter how tinged with worry, were beginning to annoy the middle sibling. “The longer I stay here, the less likely I am to get food and the less energy Yakko will have to get better.” 

Dot fell silent at that for a few moments, before she threw her arms around Wakko in a hug that was borderline crushing. “Be careful.” She murmured. “Who else am I going to fold papers into shapes with? Yakko? He’d rather talk it into submission than fold it.” 

Wakko snorted at her comment, returning the hug, though his was much gentler, as if afraid he’d break his sister if he held her too tightly. “Well, I was going to follow in his footsteps and run into a freezing river and get sick, but since you told me to be careful.....I guess.” He let out a sigh as if she were asking the world of him, but both siblings were grinning. “Don’t let him do anything that’ll make him worse.” 

“He’s not getting out of this bed. He’s got another thing coming if he thinks he’s going to be productive today.” 

Wakko gathered the supplies needed for hunting, offering one last look towards his siblings. Dot had her back turned to Wakko, retrieving a cloth and soaking it in water before placing it atop Yakko’s forehead. He’d done it for her when her temperature spiked, so it seemed fitting that she do the same for him. 

Wakko drew in a deep breath, steeling himself to step out into the frigid winter air. He had to do this, had to step up, had to provide. 

No matter how much it may have scared him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Wakko hunts. Does he succeed? We just don't know.   
> I have no excuse for making Yakko suffer. As if he doesn't have it hard enough.   
> Thanks for reading, all the kudos and comments mean the world to me :)   
> Have a lovely day!


	3. Fever Pitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wakko hunts, Yakko and Dot's opposing thoughts come to a head.

The frigid winter wind stung Wakko's eyes and made them water as soon as he stepped outside; flurries swirled in the air and stuck to his fur. Wakko was thankful he had a sweater, a scarf, and a cap to keep him warm. That said, it was far from _enough_. 

His siblings didn't fare much better clothing wise, in fact, it felt like they all had an odd mish-mash of clothes. Himself with the aforementioned clothes, Yakko with a scarf and pants, and Dot with her shawl and skirt. 

They'd all had to make it work, had to make do with what they could scrounge or sew together since Wakko was old enough to accurately remember. Truth be told he couldn't recall much prior to the orphanage, and Yakko was uncharacteristically reticent to expand on what their early lives had been like. 

Sometimes Wakko's dreams were filled with screams and fire and a dark crimson that spilled across floors like a slow wave. But he knew that had to be a mere nightmare, there was no way could it relate to their _true_ pasts. 

Wakko knew the story that Yakko told Dot every single night, but that was all it was, a _story_. Dot didn't come from a flower patch, no one—not even her—could speak that well when they were that young, and there was no way they descended from _royalty_. It was just something to make Dot feel better, and things that made Dot happy seemed to be in such short supply these days, there was no way Wakko would ever complain about how often he had to hear it. 

At least Yakko was a good storyteller. 

Some part of Wakko wished he could buy into such a tall tale, could believe they had once been part of something larger and more exciting than just being orphans. 

With the way Yakko didn't speak of their parents, Wakko had to wonder if their parents had even _wanted_ them. Had their parents had the three Warner children, been annoyed or disgusted by them, and dropped them off because they didn't want to have to deal with the baby Warners any longer? 

With the way potential adoptors and cruel children at the orphanage had picked on them, Wakko wouldn't have been surprised if that were the case. Everyone seemed so annoyed by them, so tired of their antics—though those had lessened as time went on, as the town grew poorer and Dot got sicker. 

What did the Warner siblings do that was so _wrong_? 

Wakko ignored the pained throbbing in his chest that started up any time he tried to imagine their parents. He shook such thoughts from his head, there was no point in trying to drum up rhymes or reasons as to why they’d been tossed aside by their parents. At this point, Wakko was ~~not truly~~ convinced that all he needed, and would ever need, were his siblings. Who needed trustworthy adults in their crumbling lives? Certainly **not** the Warner siblings! 

Snow and twigs crunched underfoot as Wakko headed into the forest. As food vendors shuttered their shops due to bankruptcy, other solutions to getting food had to be found. 

Of course, the Warners weren’t the only ones who had come to the same conclusion to hunt in the woods. 

Wakko trekked around a rather large deadfall trap. Did those even work? Though, the lack of energy required to set them up was certainly a draw to the hungry denizens of Acme Falls. Wakko wasn’t partial to them. He wasn’t a fan of anything that could leave an innocent animal hurting if it didn’t kill them instantly, left to bleed out and suffer until the owner of the trap either found the animal and finished the job, or they finally died slowly and painfully. 

Yakko's specialty lay in snare traps, a skill he had passed onto Wakko. Where Yakko was often more logical and methodical, Wakko liked to add his own flair to the snare traps he built, tinkering with different designs as he went. Wakko didn’t enjoy hunting, didn’t enjoy having to end the life of an animal, but he did enjoy spending time with his older brother. He enjoyed learning in an environment that was less book-oriented and more hands on. 

He hoped Yakko would recover quickly. 

Wakko shifted his thoughts from bone-deep concern for his older brother to the task at hand. He couldn’t fail his siblings. He just _couldn’t._

Yakko had taught him the various game trails that littered the forest floor, had taught him how to hide their traps with the various underbrush the forest provided. For a moment, Wakko wondered how long it had taken Yakko to figure it all out through trial and error. No wonder Yakko had come home late and covered in dirt so often when the orphanage had first shut down and they’d _really_ had only themselves to rely on. Still, Yakko always had a smile and big hug for his siblings, and he always found the energy necessary to tell Dot her favorite story when he returned from such trips. 

Wakko set to work. He wanted to go for bigger game than rabbits or squirrels—no offense to Slappy and Skippy—and the more he was able to catch, the more Yakko could rest. He wouldn’t have to go hunting quite as soon if they had more food on hand. 

With the trap set and hidden as well as he could manage without disrupting its integrity, Wakko went off to stir up the game he intended to catch. It was faster, and more risky, but if he could startle the game and chase them into the trap then he could expedite the results. 

Now he just needed to find the game first...

* * *

Yakko awoke with a strangled gasp, shooting up into a sitting position like a rocket. Sweat trickled down his fur, and his head still throbbed, but that was ignored in the initial panic of _where were his siblings?_

He relaxed a few degrees when he spotted Dot. She was sitting next to the bed, attempting to fold an advertisement into…something. It was obvious she lacked the skill and experience Wakko did, but that wasn't stopping her. 

The youngest sibling had frozen when Yakko had woken so dramatically, eyes wide, paper forgotten as she stood and moved closer to Yakko's side. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, looking uncertain on just how to proceed. Being a caretaker wasn't in her wheelhouse, she was usually the one that had to be taken care _of_. 

Right now, she wished she had more knowledge, had somehow gleaned more medical information from Doctor Scratchansniff when he had examined her and explained her illness to herself and her brothers. She'd been in such a state of shock once the words ‘terminal, if not treated' and ‘surgery' had been uttered that everything else had felt like it was being said while they were underwater. Now? She was kicking herself for not paying more attention, for not, perhaps, picking up more tips and tricks to maybe care about someone who was sick. 

How did he feel? Yakko couldn't think of a word that could describe just how bone-tired he was, and how his never-ending anxiety made his pulse stay elevated _all the time_ , and how he couldn’t recall the last time he wasn't **terrified** for his siblings in some shape, form, or fashion and he knew _a lot_ of words! 

But instead of verbalizing any of those thoughts, he offered Dot a small smile. “I'm feeling okay. Better now.” But not by much. Still, it technically wasn't a lie. 

Dot studied his face, her frown deepening in the process. “Are you sure?” 

Either Yakko wasn't as good at hiding his true feelings as he thought he was because of this illness, or Dot was a savant at reading faces. Whichever reason, Yakko didn't like the implications. Yakko let out a sigh, scanning the makeshift room before he realized something. 

“Where's Wakko?” And just like that his pulse skyrocketed _again_. One sibling was accounted for, as healthy as she could be given the circumstances, but Yakko needed to see Wakko was safe and sound as well before he would relax. The uptick in pulse only made his head throb more, and Yakko scant caught himself from groaning in pain. He couldn’t let Dot know just how awful he **still** felt, he didn't want to worry his siblings more than he already had. 

Dot’s silence only served to bolster Yakko’s anxiety, already jumping to the worst conclusions. Was Wakko hurt? Was he sick as well? Had Yakko somehow slept through Wakko needing to go to Scratchy’s or— 

Dot placed a hand on top of Yakko’s, his attention snapped to her, studying her face for even the slightest hint of where Wakko was and what he was doing. 

“He’s fine.” Dot assured, though that being the first words out of her mouth did little to convince Yakko that was the case. 

“Where is he?” Yakko repeated, somehow managing to keep his voice even, though he was certain he could _feel_ his fur turning gray from the stress. 

“Don’t get mad.” Dot prefaced, holding out her hands as if she were surrendering. Yakko only squinted at her, waiting in silence. She just needed to hurry up and tell him before he suffered from a heart attack. “He went out hunting.” 

“ **What?!** By _himself_?” Yakko exclaimed. The eldest sibling was certain his heart had stopped beating for a solid three seconds. 

Dot refrained from making the sarcastic comment that came to mind, _well, we don’t have a secret fourth Warner sibling to accompany him, now do we?_ , instead she nodded. “You were asleep and—” 

“It’s too dangerous for him to go out hunting by himself.” Yakko’s voice was firm as he began to untangle himself from the blankets, hellbent on getting out of the bed, out of their home, and finding Wakko before something terrible happened to his younger brother. 

“But you’re still sick!” Dot argued, “And Wakko can handle himself!” 

Why did Yakko always have to treat them like they were toddlers incapable of doing anything by themselves? He’d always acted like that, but with the appearance of Dot’s illness, Yakko’s mother-henning had become something of legend. 

“And Wakko could be hurt.” Yakko retorted without hesitation. Of course. Of course, the _one_ time Yakko had—unintentionally—’taken it easy’ he awoke to this. He was the oldest, the most experienced, it should have been him out hunting in the freezing cold instead of Wakko. He was never going to let himself live this down. He was a horrid older brother, relying on his younger siblings to take care of things like this. 

Would his mom and dad hate him for this? 

Yakko didn’t want to entertain such a ~~haunting and~~ unsettling thought. He hurried to wrap his scarf around his neck, looking down at Dot as she approached him. “Stay here while I get Wakko.” 

Dot scowled, placing her hands on her hips, gearing up for a fight. “Wakko can handle hunting. You’ve taken him before!” 

“Taken him _with_ me, yes. He’s never went hunting by himself before.” Yakko retorted. Between his pounding head, the feeling of just being _unwell_ that permeated Yakko’s system, and his sister’s unerringly stubborn streak—though at this point it was more like a personality trait than a streak—Yakko couldn’t help but feel irked. 

“And how would he ever have the chance to go by himself when you’re _always_ there, hovering?” Dot demanded. 

“Someone has to make sure you two don’t get hurt or—” Yakko cut himself off, turning away and heading to the door. Dot followed hot on his heels. 

“What? Were you about to say ‘sick’?” 

Yakko flinched at Dot’s words. He had. 

“You can’t protect us from everything.” Dot’s tone was firm. “You can’t shoulder everything by yourself. It’s not your job.” 

When had his siblings started trying to act like adults? Why was his _baby sister_ trying to convince him their circumstances weren’t Yakko’s fault while his _baby brother_ had gone off hunting to try and provide for the family. That was Yakko’s responsibility. It all rested on his shoulders, he didn't want even a _fraction_ of it resting on theirs. 

Yakko could feel the all-too-familiar tightening in his chest, it felt like it was getting harder to breathe. His lungs didn’t want to work properly and his heart rate was spiking and it felt like he was wearing concrete shoes. 

_It was all his fault. All his fault that his **baby** siblings were left to pick up the slack. Dot was playing p-psychiatrist when she was already ill and suffering, and Wakko was out hunting and possibly hurt and injured and he’d spent all day laying in bed and he was the worst brother in the world! At this rate it would be a miracle if he kept his siblings alive through the winter, though with Dot’s current condition that was—_

The self-deprecating thoughts swirled in Yakko’s mind, threatening to pull him under and drown him outright. 

“I have to _try_.” Yakko managed, through gritted teeth. He just needed her to _stop arguing_ for once in her life, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Dot Warner was a fighter, sick or not and there was no way in Hell that Yakko was going to clue her in to what was going on inside his head. He couldn’t appear weak in front of his siblings, couldn’t falter. He’d already stumbled in his care today, and that led to Wakko going out on his own. 

“You can trust Wakko and I to help where we can.” Dot retorted. “We’re not as young and helpless as we used to be.” 

Not as young or naïve to the ways of the world anymore either. 

Wakko and Dot had once believed that _surely someone would want them, surely some adults would realize they were **good** kids who deserved a **good** home…no matter what the adults who ran the place said_, and then once the orphanage shut down it was _surely they wouldn’t be outright **abandoned** by the individuals running the orphanage, surely they would help them, at least in the beginning, find a viable place to stay where they wouldn’t feel like they were mere moments away from freezing to death during the long, winter nights_. Obviously that hadn’t panned out, given their current living situation. 

It was then that Dot had lost any real sense of belief that adults were good or kind or trustworthy. Good and kind and trustworthy adults didn’t abandon three orphaned children without hesitation or remorse. 

As for Wakko...well, he was a much more optimistic and kinder individual than she, and sometimes Dot couldn’t help but envy that about him. 

“You’re sick, you don’t need to be doing anything other than resting and trying to conserve your strength.” 

“I’m **not** going to just _waste away_ in bed like a damsel while you **kill yourself** doing everything!” 

“You’re just a child!” Yakko exclaimed, switching gears, as if that argument would get his sister to stop. 

“Well, you’re just a teenager!” Dot shouted back at him. 

It was too much. It was all just too _damn **much**_. The sickness, the stress, the worry for his brother, the horrible thoughts, the arguing. It all reached a fever pitch inside of Yakko. 

“Can you just **stop** inserting yourself into everyone’s business, for _once_? You don’t know as much as you seem to think you do and yet you continue to chatter on _incessantly_ , and frankly, it’s tiring.” 

The resounding silence that followed suit made Yakko pause. It was only then his brain caught up to his mouth and he truly realized the magnitude of what he'd said. He cringed as he turned to look at his younger sister. 

_Fuck._

There was a flash of hurt in Dot’s eyes before she covered it with performative rage. She crossed her arms, and let out an angry huff. “ _Well?_ Don’t you have somewhere to go? A brother to find? I won’t bother you with more ‘incessant chatter’.” 

Yakko opened his mouth to apologize, but Dot didn’t give him the chance. The youngest Warner sibling turned on her heel and strode back to the room they had partitioned off with sheets. 

He’d apologize later. When _both_ of their tempers had cooled. 

For now, he just needed to make sure Wakko was still in one piece.

* * *

Life, for once, didn’t kick Yakko while he was down. 

He’d just entered the forest when he spotted Wakko’s telltale red cap and blue sweater about thirty yards out. Without realizing it, Yakko’s pace picked up. He may have _spotted_ his younger brother, but the anxiety regarding Wakko’s health wouldn’t die down until Yakko knew for _certain_ that his younger brother was okay. 

“You’re up.” Wakko spoke first, his surprise at seeing Yakko out and about was obvious. 

“You’re okay.” Yakko breathed a sigh of relief, reaching out to pull his younger brother into an almost _crushing_ hug. 

Wakko’s bewilderment increased tenfold at that statement and the hug. “Of course I am.” As if there wasn’t a shred of doubt in Wakko’s mind that he _wouldn’t_ be okay. For a moment, Wakko wondered if Dot had even bothered to tell Yakko where he was, but then...how else would Yakko had known where to find him if she hadn’t? Hadn't she assured Yakko that Wakko would be fine? That there was nothing to worry about? Or was Yakko just that anxious? Hell, it could have been a little of both. 

Yakko released his brother, now that he knew Wakko was okay he could take in other details that had previously been missed. 

Life, it seemed, had been kind to Wakko as well. 

He noticed the game in Wakko’s left hand: _two_ medium sized turkeys that Wakko was holding by their necks. 

“Looks like _someone_ had a successful hunting trip.” His tone was light and teasing as he motioned to what Wakko had caught. 

Yakko wasn’t amused with the fact that Wakko had gone hunting by himself, but he didn’t want to start a fight with Wakko. One angry sibling was all he could handle at a time, and he didn’t want to diminish any sort of pride Wakko felt at his accomplishment. 

Wakko beamed up at Yakko, then gave a shrug and scuffed his foot against the ground as if to downplay what he had done. “Eh, it was nothing.” 

“It _wasn’t_ nothing. You did good, Baby Bro.” 

“Really?” Oh, the surprise and the note of tentative pride in Wakko’s tone struck Yakko right in his chest. 

“Really.” Yakko assured, then tacked on: “You _always_ do good.” Maybe this was a sign he needed to compliment his siblings more. 

“You don’t take me hunting often, so I thought I was bad at it.” Wakko admitted, giving a self-deprecating laugh. 

Ah. Maybe Dot wasn’t so off the mark, but for a reason different than she had thought. He didn’t take Wakko hunting because Wakko was a _kid_ , he didn’t need to be freezing and miserable out in the middle of the forest when Yakko could do it instead. He just hadn’t realized that leaving Wakko behind could be misconstrued in such a fashion. 

“That’s not the case,” Yakko placed a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, “I just worry about Dot and want someone to stay behind to keep an eye on her and I trust you to handle that with ease.” 

Wakko’s expression conveyed both pride and relief. 

“Do you want help preparing the meat?” Yakko asked. 

Wakko nodded.

* * *

As light hearted as the conversations were while taking care of the game Wakko had caught was, the closer they got to being finished, the more _off_ Yakko acted. 

“Are you feeling worse?” Wakko questioned, “I can finish this—” 

“I’m fine.” Yakko cut him off, curt as ever. 

That didn’t seem fine. Wakko furrowed his brows. The two of them worked in absolute silence until they finished the job minutes later. 

Wakko’s confusion only grew when the two of them stepped inside and Dot didn’t rush to the door to greet them. Wakko looked up at Yakko questioningly, though Yakko didn’t offer any sort of explanation, and his expression was flat. 

Wakko could feel the tension in the air, almost palpable at this point; Yakko's shoulders were tense as he cooked the game Wakko had caught. The eldest sibling was _still_ silent, and that just wasn't like him. 

Dot remained in the partitioned room instead of spending her time in the same room as her brothers, another red flag. When Dot was well enough to get out of bed, she often hung close to her older brothers, or even attempted to go outside and enjoy all it entailed while she could—even in the winter months. No one knew how much longer she‘d be able to do things that seemed so easy and were taken for granted on her own. 

“Is Dot having another rough patch?” Wakko asked, concern held him in a vicelike grip. He knew he had told her to keep an eye on Yakko, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to overexert herself in the process! Surely Yakko wouldn’t have gone after Wakko and taken the time to clean the game if she had gotten worse. 

Yakko's gaze hardened as he stared down at the fire. “No.” 

That didn't give Wakko much to go off of. At this point he was assuming a fight of some sort—the two of them butted heads so often it was no longer a surprise. Wakko often stayed out of their way, not wanting to draw their ire. 

“Oh.” Wakko responded. “That's good.” He didn't have much to say, but he didn't have to say anything, Yakko was content to do all the talking now that Wakko had broken the silence. 

“She thinks she knows everything.” He muttered. “She doesn't have a clue what being the oldest entails.” But it was just idle grumbling at this point. Part of Yakko knew Dot had valid points but he didn’t want to admit it, and it hurt to admit—even just to himself—that he needed help from the very people he was supposed to be taking care of. That said, he wasn’t quite ready to apologize yet either. 

Wakko didn't respond to that. What was he supposed to say? He was the _middle_ child, he didn't know what being the eldest entailed either. Wakko knew Dot was… _opinionated_ , but it was rare for Dot's strong thoughts and feelings to rub Yakko the wrong way to this degree. 

Yakko let out an irritated huff. “She should be resting instead of arguing with me.” 

_Good luck with that._ The thought flitted across Wakko's mind, but went unsaid, there was no point in starting a fight. 

Wakko looked up when he heard Dot’s footsteps drawing near, her own expression was impossible to read. 

Dot spared Wakko a glance, offered the slightest of smiles, but pointedly ignored Yakko; the eldest sibling, in turn, did the same to her. 

Wakko hated the oppressive silence that followed any time Yakko and Dot fought. He was used to the two of them constantly making jokes, bouncing off of one another’s rapid-fire quips. 

Perhaps the silence reminded him too much of when Dot was having one of her worse days, and the sense of dread it brought with it, when she was too tired and too weak to keep up with Yakko’s quick wit. 

Yakko, wordlessly, doled out the food and the Warners ate in a silence so stifling that Wakko thought it was going to suffocate him. For a quiet child, even Wakko wanted to _scream_ just to break the silence. 

But he didn’t.

* * *

Later that night, Dot didn’t bother asking for the usual story, or even a story at all. 

Instead, Dot had trudged to bed, and after a painful-sounding coughing fit, had blown out the candle and…that was that. 

Yakko looked almost lost and outright _mournful_ standing at the makeshift curtain that sectioned off the room Dot slept in. When was the last time he'd gone without reciting the story of their parents before she went to sleep? He couldn't remember. 

Wakko watched Yakko trudge off, away from Dot’s room, and set to work inventorying the remaining food before putting it up and away. 

It was still too silent. 

To break said silence, Wakko made his way over to the harp he’d created out of a bedframe and strings, taking a moment or two to get his fingers just right, and to decide what sort of melody he was going for. 

Something upbeat, he decided, to try and clear up some of the miasma that permeated the Warner home. 

As he played, he went over the events of the day, his mind and hands practically two separate entities. The tune was bright, cheery, but his thoughts followed a more depressing line of thinking. 

If Yakko and Dot could survive without him for a day, even with Yakko so ill, even with his apparent fight with Dot, then they could easily do the same when Yakko was back on his feet, and when tensions had died down. 

Did they really even _need_ Wakko? Or was he just another stone tied to Yakko's leg, dragging the eldest sibling down? 

Wakko rolled the thought around in his skull. 

His sister had been sick for so long—and would continue to be either until they could afford legitimate medical aid, or…well, Wakko didn’t want to even entertain the other terrifying and heartbreaking option. Yakko, on the other hand, worked himself much too hard, whatever had to be done, he did without hesitation or complaining ~~that was said aloud~~. It was up to Wakko to pick up the slack, to augment where he could, whether Yakko liked it or not. 

But just how in the world was a ten-almost-eleven-year-old supposed to do that and do it _successfully_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of y'all happen to read my other fic (Don't You Forget About Me) I did rewrite a good portion of the first chapter, in case that interests you.  
> Also, I wrote this entire chapter while going on...32 hours with no sleep, so if you see any mistakes....no you don't lol  
> Also also (lol), I'm not sure if I want to end this before/right at when Wakko leaves, or continue it, but I guess we'll see one way or another  
> Thank you for reading!  
> Your comments and kudos make my day! :D


	4. Unhappy Accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakko and Dot try to reconcile, Wakko finds out an uneasy truth.

The morning came without pomp or circumstance. 

Wakko awoke as Yakko padded past him, towards the room they'd partitioned for Dot. The middle sibling kept still, watching as Yakko extended a hand to pull the curtain aside, only to withdraw his hand, before repeating the same motions two more times. 

"I don't think she'll bite you." Yakko jumped a solid three inches in the air when Wakko spoke up. 

Yakko placed a hand to his chest and gave an irritated huff. "You know it's **not** a good idea to give me a heart attack, right?" Yakko kept his voice lowered to keep from waking Dot; he turned to face Wakko fully, resting his hands on his hips. 

Wakko grinned from where he sat, unabashed. At least him startling Yakko had caused some of the tension to dissipate from the room. "I don't know..." Wakko trailed off, keeping his voice soft and light. "Then you couldn't nag me." 

Yakko rolled his eyes, but he was grinning down at his younger brother. "Of course, _that_ would be your biggest concern." 

Wakko shrugged, his tone still light and breezy. "The others in town say I'm a 'simple individual', seems like they're right." 

Yakko’s grin died instantly at that, replaced by a deep frown. How could he not? He knew the way the town's denizens meant it—and from the way Wakko's gaze had flicked down to the ground as he'd talked, Wakko knew the connotation as well. 

Wakko was... **well** , Wakko's intellect shone in differing areas. 

Where Yakko, and even Dot, shone in more 'obvious' areas of intellect: dropping large words from their vast lexicons in their day-to-day conversations without even trying, to Yakko being a mental math whiz. Wakko outdid his siblings in other ways. 

If Yakko had to quantify Wakko's intellect under a broad banner, he'd mark his younger brother as being more spatially intelligent; Wakko was a whiz at building things without rigid instructions. He'd even say that Wakko was the most perceptive out of the three of them—even if he didn't use this to his advantage like Dot often did. 

"The townsfolk don't know what they're talking about." Yakko stated, voice firm. 

Wakko gave another shrug, "It's not like what they say matters." Though there was an almost vulnerable undercurrent to his tone. 

Yakko scowled at the sheet hanging in front of him, as if it had personally insulted Wakko, as he dwelled on what the townsfolk had the gall to say right to his brother's _face_ , like he was too **stupid** to comprehend those words. 

"Yakko...?" Wakko's voice drew Yakko from his thoughts. 

Yakko drew in a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and exhaled slowly. "Sorry," Just like that, the angry expression Yakko had been donning disappeared, replaced by an easygoing grin. He'd handle _that_ whole ordeal later, for now, his brother was talking to him and his sister wasn't—the latter was something he needed to fix. "I was a million miles away for a second." 

Wakko's brow furrowed, but he didn't press it. There was no point when Yakko acted like that, like nothing was wrong and that everything was just _dandy_. "S'fine." 

Yakko's grin remained a moment longer, up until he directed his gaze back to the curtain. He needed to check on Dot and get back on the right foot. The Warners had enough problems, the last thing they needed was two of the three giving each other the cold shoulder. The weather was already frigid enough. 

Once again, Yakko steeled himself, then eased the curtain to the side. 

Wakko clambered to his feet from his prior sitting position and padded over to stand beside Yakko. 

"You don't have to join me. You know how our arguments get." Yakko sounded almost sheepish at that. 

"You two are going to argue?" Wakko questioned. Oh great. 

Wakko felt his disagreements with Dot were much simpler than watching the passive-aggressive tango his older brother and baby sister went through when they were mad at one another. At least when the two younger siblings were mad, it was more obviously verbal: a lot of angry shouting and even a bit of pushing and ear pulling if they got irate enough. Usually the worst of it was over when either Yakko stepped in, or they exhausted themselves—the latter was becoming more and more prevalent as Dot got weaker due to her illness. 

That being said, any arguments with Dot as one of the parties were becoming fewer and fewer. Neither brother wanted to argue with a sibling who might.... _pass away_ before they could make up. 

Which only meant whatever happened between Yakko and Dot must have been pretty bad. 

Wakko was internally relieved he'd missed out on it. He loathed hearing his siblings argue, it stressed him out and Dot often looked to Wakko for support while Yakko would exclaim, _Don't drag Wakko into this! This is between you and me, Sister of mine_ , and the arguing would only intensify tenfold from there. 

Yakko looked down to Wakko for a moment before looking back at Dot—or, more specifically, the two black ears that poked out from where the rest of her was tucked under the covers. "I hope not." He admitted, but he was never that lucky. Life enjoyed kicking the Warners while they were down, why would this interaction go smoothly when no others did? "In fact," Yakko fished around in his pocket for a couple moments before pulling out a coin. "Will you do me a favor and pick up a," Yakko's gaze flicked to their makeshift kitchen. "a loaf of bread from the bakery?" 

Wakko looked at the coin in Yakko's proffered hand, then to where Dot lay, before he accepted the money. "Sure." 

Wakko knew Yakko was just trying to get him out of their home and away from the disagreement they all knew was going to ensue, and Wakko was more than happy to take the flimsy out. 

"Thanks," Yakko breathed a sigh of relief. That was easier than he had anticipated. Small miracles. 

Yakko waited until Wakko had departed the water tower completely before he, once again, turned his attention back to where Dot was still sleeping. For a moment he wished he hadn't sent Wakko off on an errand, but knew that thought was inherently selfish. 

Yakko steeled himself, then strode forward; the oldest Warner was careful not to flop down as he sat on the edge of the bed. He placed a gentle hand on Dot's shoulder, where it was still under the covers, and gave it a slight shake. 

Normally Yakko would state her full name in a loud and dramatic fashion, staving off a good deal of Dot's irritation towards being woken up, but he doubted such a routine would save him this time. 

Instead, he kept his voice soft. "Dot?" 

A hand shot out from under the covers and made a blind swipe at the offending older brother that dared to wake her up. 

Yakko shifted out of range of the swiping arm with ease, letting out a sigh. On the bright side: she was still alive; he could check that off for another day. On the not-so-bright side: she was still pissed. 

Further punctuated by her: "Go _away_ , Yakko." Followed by her scrunching under the covers more, arm and ears no longer out in the open. 

"I can't. Physically incapable of moving at the moment." Yakko retorted without thinking. Shit. He needed to keep a more serious tone, but it was just so natural to have a verbal back-and-forth with his siblings. It was how the Warners operated. 

"Yes, you can. You just choose to annoy me because you get a thrill out of harassing me and Wakko." 

Yeesh. Harsh. Yakko couldn't even be mad at her, he had been cruel to her the night before, now she was just returning the favor tenfold. 

"Will you listen if I promise to leave you alone once I'm done?" This was the most Yakko could do to compromise. He needed to clear the air, and if Dot didn't forgive him, well, at least he had let her know his feelings on the matter at hand. 

Dot was silent. 

Yakko frowned, "You know I'm only going to stay if you don't respond, right?" 

From under the covers, Dot's muffled voice rose up. "I'm waiting for you to say your piece and then leave." 

"Well, you didn't respond." Yakko reminded his younger sister. 

"You didn't say I **had** to respond." Dot retorted, the epitome of a petulant child. 

Yakko's frown only turned into a scowl as he looked towards the ceiling of their home, as if asking for divine intervention. As much as he loved his baby sister, she frustrated him in equal measure. 

"I just wanted to apologize." He began, keeping his frustration with Dot's attitude in check. "My words were needlessly rude and I didn't mean them, but I still said them and they can't be taken back." He patted Dot's shoulder idly as he spoke, and the younger Warner didn't pull away, so he took that as a good sign. "I don't like the thought of you or Wakko trying to provide," Yakko was struck with the memory of part of his conversation with Wakko from the day before: 

_“It **wasn’t** nothing. You did good, Baby Bro.” _

_“Really?” Oh, the surprise and the note of tentative pride in Wakko’s tone struck Yakko right in his chest._

_“Really.” Yakko assured, then tacked on: “You **always** do good.” _

_“You don’t take me hunting often, so I thought I was bad at it.” Wakko admitted._

Yakko hurriedly added: "Not because I think you two are incapable! But because that's my job as the oldest." 

Dot's shoulder shook under Yakko's hand and the oldest sibling was struck with the fear that Dot was having a coughing fit that she was struggling to keep quiet. 

He lifted the sheet without warning or permission, freezing when, instead of the sight of Dot coughing, she had tears streaming down her cheeks. She reached up and tried to wrench the blanket back down to hide her shame, embarrassed Yakko had seen this display at all, but Yakko held it out of her reach. Sometimes it was a curse that Yakko was so much taller than his siblings, in this case, it was a blessing for him. 

For the first time in as long as Yakko could remember, he was _speechless_. He asked the only thing that came to mind: "Why are you _crying_?" 

"Shut up! Go away!" Dot exclaimed, turning onto her other side, back now facing Yakko. 

"Do you really think that's going to work?" He asked, brows furrowing. His voice was full of worry, he extended a hand to place on her shoulder again, but paused midway through the motion, not wanting hurt her. "Are you in pain?" 

Dot Warner wasn't a crier. It had been _years_ since he'd seen Dot cry, so why was she doing so **now**? 

“No.” It didn’t sound like she was lying, but Yakko had no idea why else she’d be so openly _vulnerable_. 

There was only one logical solution to this in Yakko’s mind: “We’re going to see Scratchy.” Yakko slid off the bed, hurrying to her side to pick her up. If she was crying, there was no way he was going to ask her to walk. 

“I don’t need to see Scratchy!” Dot shouted; frustration permeated her tone. She let out an aggravated huff, and her voice dropped to where it was scant audible. “I can’t do anything.” 

“What?” Yakko leaned closer, even with their large ears, he still hadn’t managed to hear his sister. 

Dot turned to where she was facing him, “I’m the one dragging this family down. _I’m_ the reason you and Wakko are suffering.” 

Oh. Yakko knelt next to the bed, wiping at the tear-streaked fur with a gentle, gloved hand. “You don’t really think that, do you?” He asked, voice soft. 

“I don’t _think_ it, I **know** it.” She responded, looking away. 

With the tears wiped away, Yakko shifted to gently petting Dot’s head. “You’re not _dragging us down_.” 

Dot glared at her older brother, “I’m not _stupid_ , I know that having three mouths to feed, but only two able to provide puts more work on the two.” 

Yakko had always known Dot was at least somewhat frustrated with her illness, but usually the youngest Warner seemed to shrug it off. Continuing on like it wasn’t dragging her down in an emotional or psychological sense to such an extent. 

Apparently, that had all been a façade and he’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. He’d just been so busy trying to provide food and other integral supplies that he’d managed to neglect his siblings emotional wellbeings in the process incidentally. 

He was a shit brother, wasn’t he? 

What would his parents think? 

Yakko shoved those depressing thoughts to the corners of his mind; he knew he would be kept awake at night contemplating them, struck with a bone-deep guilt, but for now, his baby sister needed reassurance, and he would try and provide that in spades. 

“You think kids are supposed to ‘provide’?” Yakko questioned. 

“Normal kids? No. Kids like us, with no parents, and living in a water tower? Yes.” 

Sometimes Yakko wished his sister wasn’t so smart or possessed such a quick-wit. “Would you expect Wakko to help out if the roles were reversed?” 

“No.” Dot sounded offended that Yakko had even asked that. 

“Then why are you being so hard on yourself?” 

“It’s different!” 

“How?” 

“It just is! Ugh!” She threw up her arms in a dramatic display, only to cover her face with them a second later. “All I do is lay here and be useless! Day in and day out!” 

“You’re _not_ useless.” Yakko stated, his voice firm. He meant what he said. 

“You’re full of it.” Dot groaned. 

“Charm? Wit? Good looks?” Yakko hoped that his light response would annoy Dot, but in a more positive way. Shifting from _I’m a burden on my brothers_ to _my oldest brother is the most annoying person on this earth_ was a sacrifice Yakko was willing to make. 

Dot lifted her hands enough to glare at Yakko for a moment before she rolled her eyes. “You are so annoying sometimes.” 

“Love you too, my sib sister.” Yakko knew that Dot’s concerns on ‘dragging himself and Wakko down’ hadn’t magically dissipated; but, for the moment at least, it seemed like she was returning to her usual demeanor. 

Dot sulked for a moment. “I tolerate you.” 

He would take it.

* * *

Wakko took a moment to check the structural integrity of the pocket on his sweater, before shoving the coin inside. He’d learned to take such measures the hard way—he didn’t think he’d _ever_ forgive himself for the time one had fallen through a small in his threadbare clothes, and he hadn’t realized it until it was too late. 

He’d had to let Yakko know, and though his brother hadn’t been coarse or angry, he could tell from the stiffness in the older Warner brother’s shoulders that it was definitely a huge detriment to the family. 

Wakko offered one last glance to the door their home before he began trudging towards the town. 

He hoped Yakko and Dot would have things settled by the time he returned—though he doubted that would be the case. If the two got aggravated enough to get into a legitimate fight, the two often oscillated between openly arguing and giving one another the cold shoulder for a while. 

Wakko wasn’t certain which one was worse. 

For now, he was more than content to escape, even if it was just for ten to fifteen minutes. Though, he did feel a tad guilty at that. Was it fair to want to escape _that_? Or was that inherently selfish of him? 

He didn’t want to dwell on it. 

Wakko kicked the snow off of his uncovered feet before he stepped into the bakery. He may have been an orphan, but he was polite when it mattered, and the baker always tried to help the Warners out when he could, even though times were hard for _everybody_. 

“Wakko,” The baker greeted, though there was a note of surprise in his voice as the baker continued to knead his dough. “Usually, it’s your brother coming here to buy.” The baker’s voice took on a note of concern, “He’s not sick with what your sister has, is he?” 

Just the thought of that possibility becoming a reality was enough to send a bolt of fear through Wakko. If that ever happened, Wakko wasn’t certain _what_ he would do. Handling the tough matters, the issues that had life or death consequences, was Yakko’s purview—to all of the Warners chagrin. 

“No,” Wakko responded, and the baker looked relieved. It was no secret he had a soft spot for kids, in better times he would often give out freebies to children. “He’s, uh, keeping an eye on Dot.” Better to not air out their dirty laundry, what concern of it was the town’s to know his older brother and baby sister were, likely, in a knock-down-drag-out. 

“Ah,” The baker gave a knowing nod, wiping a good deal of flour from his hands before he grabbed a towel to pull a steaming tray of bread from their brick oven. “How long has your sister been sick now?” 

_Much, **much** too long._ If Wakko had to guess... “Over a year now.” He responded, unable to suppress the melancholy tone in his voice. 

The baker hummed in sympathy, pulling off two loaves and shoving them into a paper bag. “It’s a shame. She was always so lively,” 

_She still **is**_ , Wakko thought, but there was no point in Wakko arguing that point. He hated the way the town seemed to regard Dot’s illness as a guaranteed death sentence. She wasn’t gone, and the Warners were trying their hardest to keep it from being a ‘not yet’ scenario. 

The baker continued on, oblivious to Wakko’s inner thoughts. “if she’s feeling up to it, you should bring her by some time. She always was my biggest critic, and she made the funniest faces when she didn’t enjoy something.” The last two comments were made with a laugh. The baker held out the paper bag containing the two loaves to Wakko. 

Wakko grimaced, holding up a hand as if in surrender. “I only brought enough for one loaf.” He informed the baker, voice soft. 

“Just take the bag, Wakko.” The baker’s voice was soft. 

Wakko hesitated for just a moment before he took the bag, and began to dig the coin out from his pocket. 

“Ah-ah, save that for next time. If your brother is sticking by your sister’s side, then she must be especially sick today.” 

Wakko blinked. For a moment there was the urge to tell the truth: _she’s no sicker than she normally is, Yakko and Dot just don’t have the ability to agree to disagree like normal people_. But he didn’t say it. They could use the break, managing to get food **and** not losing money in the process may benefit them greatly in the long run. 

“Thanks.” Wakko murmured, smiling. 

“Tell your brother I said ‘hello’ and I hope your sister gets to feeling better.” 

Wakko nodded, turning on his heel and leaving. 

As the door shut behind him the baker’s wife gave her husband a pointed look. 

“What?” The baker questioned, not sounding sorry in the slightest. 

The woman’s look softened after a moment, before she gave a shake of her head, “I saw nothing.” 

The baker snorted. “Thank you.” 

“No need to thank me, two loaves of bread won’t make or break us.” She responded, getting back to mixing ingredients for another one of their various delicacies.

* * *

Wakko missed the warmth of the bakery as soon as he had stepped out the door; it would only be a matter of time before the bone-deep chill returned. 

But did he really want to hurry back? Or should he take his time? 

If only he knew how Yakko and Dot’s ‘talk’ was going, it would make the decision so much easier. 

Wakko clutched the bag close to his chest, soaking in the small bit of warmth that the loaves of bread offered. If they weren’t in such dire straits, Wakko wouldn’t have hesitated to devour both loaves without hesitation or remorse. 

“Hey!” A shout sounded off to Wakko’s right. 

The middle Warner ignored it, there was no way they were talking to him. He kept trudging through the snow and ice, grimacing at the way ice pieces managed to lodge themselves between his toes. 

“Hey, Kid!” The voice called out again. This time, Wakko came to a halt, glancing back towards the direction of the voice. 

A man leaving the tailor’s shop was striding towards him. 

Wakko clutched the bag even tighter, brow furrowing. What was this about? He hadn’t done anything to slight the owner of the store, hadn’t even _gone inside_. The set-up was newer, and the owner was new to town as well. He’d picked a poor time to move to a different town, but who was Wakko to judge? 

“You!” The owner exclaimed, coming to a stop in front Wakko, taking a moment to catch his breath from where he’d been speed walking towards the younger Warner brother. 

“Me?” Wakko questioned, gaze darting to the sides as if double checking that the man was, in fact, talking to _him_. 

“Yes, you!” He placed his hands on his hips, looking down at the Warner child. 

“If you’re curious as to where I got this bread, the shop is literally next door to yours.” Wakko informed him, pointing a finger in the direction of the bakery he had just left. He had sinking feeling that wasn’t the point of this interaction. 

“What? No, that’s _not_ what I stopped you for.” 

Wakko was silent as he waited for the man to reveal what he had stopped Wakko for. 

“You know, if you’re going to sift through my dumpsters, you might want to wait until I’m _actually gone_.” His voice softened ever so slightly, “I know times are tough, but you know the Baron frowns on that sort of thing. I hear that the Baron is even trying to make that an offense you can get arrested for. Dumpsters are considered the property of the Crown now, and anyone caught stealing from them is supposedly stealing from the crown.” 

Wakko just stared up at the man for a moment, processing, trying to figure out just _what in the hell_ he was saying. Dumpster diving? Wakko hadn’t **ever** done that, so why....? 

“I think you’re mistaken.” Wakko spoke after a solid thirty second pause. 

The man snorted, “I highly doubt that. There’s not many toons like you that I could mistake you for.” He was just trying to give a friendly warning, it wasn’t like he was going to drag the kid to the Baron and tell on him, so why was he trying to _lie_? “You may have a different outfit on, but I know what you look like.” 

“Different outfit?” Wakko had a sinking feeling in his stomach. “What kind of ‘outfit’?” 

The man suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, but answered him nonetheless, anything to end this little charade. “Get rid of the cap and sweater, trade it for some brown pants.” 

Wakko froze. Brown pants? Why would Yakko be—… He would ask about that later, but for now, Wakko just offered an apologetic grin. “Yeah, you caught me. I’m sorry.” 

The man’s irritation died down at the apology. “It’s fine. Just make sure to wait until _no one is around_ if you’re going to do it again. I’m not going to hunt down the Baron and turn you in, but I’m not in the habit of _lying_ either.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Wakko nodded. What in the world? Was this guy trying to mess with him? Yakko would _never_ do something like that! He’d always told his siblings to keep their heads high, not to lower themselves to doing such things like that—especially not within eyeshot of the public. “I...I need to go now.” 

The man nodded, “Be careful not to slip on the ice.” 

Wakko turned and _bolted_ towards the decrepit water tower, his mind racing. 

If the man wasn’t mistaken—and Wakko couldn’t exactly think of anyone else in town who donned **smoky topaz** pants and looked like Wakko did other than Yakko—when had Yakko even done this? And why? Wakko couldn’t recall his brother bringing home anything that could be deemed ‘thrifted from a dumpster’. 

The middle Warner sibling opened the door to their makeshift home, pausing as he spotted Yakko patching up Dot’s shawl with a spool of thread that Wakko had never seen before. 

And the man that had spoken to Wakko had been the owner of the tailor shop. 

_Oh._

Maybe the man _wasn’t_ mistaken. 

Yakko looked up from his current task, “How’d it go, Baby Bro?” He questioned, gaze shifting back to his work. 

The oppressive air from before was gone. In fact, Dot was sitting not far from Yakko, thumbing through a book Yakko had found not too long ago. 

Now that Wakko thought about it....was the book found or _’found’_? 

And how long had Yakko been doing things like this? And why hadn’t he told Wakko or Dot? They were a family! There wasn’t supposed to be any secrets between them! 

Wakko had been silent for too long; Yakko, once again, paused in repairing Dot’s shawl, his brow furrowing as he regarded Wakko. 

“Something happen during your errand?” 

“N-no,” Wakko winced internally at the stammer. “Just feels like the cold froze my brain. Trying to let it thaw a little.” He lied. 

Dot snickered from her spot at the table, “Good luck with that. It’s like the arctic out there.” 

At least she seemed to be in a better mood. Both of them seemed to be, in fact. 

Shoot. Now Wakko _wanted_ them to be at each other’s throats as he processed this entire _whatever this was_. 

Yakko regarded his younger brother for a few moments longer with a critical eye, before he seemed to shrug off Wakko’s odd behavior. How would Yakko know that Wakko _knew_ , after all? 

Wakko let out a sigh of relief, inaudible to his siblings, before he stepped forward, placing his bounty on the table. He pulled the coin from his pocket and set it next to the loaves of bread. 

Yakko looked worried at that, “Did you forget to pay them?” 

“The baker thought you were stuck here, taking care of Dot, and took pity on us.” 

Yakko’s expression shifted from his initial worry to surprise to mistrust to acceptance. “The baker always did have a soft spot for Dot.” 

“It’s because I’m so cute!” Dot sounded pleased with herself, taking a moment to fluff up a bit of her facial fur. 

“You shouldn’t have said anything,” Yakko deadpanned, “If her ego gets any bigger it won’t be able to fit in the water tower anymore.” 

Dot glared at Yakko, who only grinned at his sister in response, unabashed. 

Wakko couldn’t bring up what he’d found, not in front of _Dot_. Wait, would that make him just as bad as Yakko? He just didn’t want to stress his sister out, her health was already bad enough, the last thing she needed was more outside stressors to drag her down and keep her more bedridden than normal. 

But he didn’t want to just keep this silent. 

Maybe if he could communicate to Yakko that he knew what was going on, his brother would let him help more. Whatever it took to keep them alive and well—as well as they could be—Wakko would do in a heartbeat, he just needed some general guidance first. 

“Yakko,” Wakko’s voice sounded odd even to himself. “Can we talk outside for a second?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. My brain just did not want to cooperate on this chapter for a while 😭 Here's hoping it was worth the wait! 
> 
> While I'm here I wanna suggest a few fics that have fucked me up (in good ways, I promise): 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23979868/chapters/57679786  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/29398548  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606551/chapters/70112148  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/28976403/chapters/71108229
> 
> 💖😄Thank you for reading! Your kudos and comments make my day! 😄💖


	5. Desolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wakko and Yakko talk about the accusation, Yakko gets a change of scenery.

Yakko gave his brother a bewildered look, before he glanced over to where Dot sat. 

The youngest Warner sibling had narrowed her eyes, a frown etched into her expression. She hated being left out of things—especially since her sickness had robbed her of the ability to do many of the things she used to enjoy. It didn't help that she often heard her brothers whispering to one another, just outside her partitioned room when they thought she was asleep. Why were they always so intent on hiding things from her? She knew her situation wasn't...great, but didn't that mean they should still include her? 

"Sure, Baby Bro," There was a uncertain waver along the edges of Yakko's tone. The eldest sibling set aside the needle and Dot's shawl, taking a moment to dust off his pants once he stood. Yakko’s mind flicked through various ideas of just what Wakko wanted to talk about. 

"Anything you have to say to him you should be able to say with me present, you know." Dot spoke up, hands on her hips as she glowered at both of her brothers. 

Any time _but_ this time Wakko would have readily agreed. In fact, he often said the same when Yakko tried to pull Dot aside to 'have a talk' when she got into trouble—as rare as it was for her to get in trouble when she tried to pull the 'cute' card. The younger siblings had to stick together, much to Yakko's chagrin. 

Wakko grimaced. He'd have to break their unspoken pact. Dot was going to _murder_ him for this, he knew, but he had to get to the bottom of this. He doubted Yakko would want to admit what Wakko had learned to _one_ sibling, let alone **two**.   
His brother was a lot of things, prideful just so happened to be one of them. 

"Not this time." Wakko spoke up, cringing inwardly at the way Dot turned the full power of her glare towards him. 

She let out a huff and crossed her arms. The spitting image of a petulant child. "And why not?" She demanded. 

Wakko loved his sister, he did, but right now he wished oh-so-desperately that she would just...just _stop being herself_ in this moment. 

Wakko glanced to Yakko, who was watching from the sidelines; he'd had enough arguing with Dot for a good, long while, he was not going to step in unless the back and forth between his younger siblings got heated. 

Wakko still wished Yakko would at least throw a snappy one-liner that would get Dot off of his case though.   
He wasn't that lucky. 

"Not everything is about you or something you need to know." That had as much tact as Dot with a mallet, which was to say, _none_. 

Dot blinked, caught off guard by the response. It wasn't stated with a deadpan tone, and there was too much irritation in Wakko's voice for it to be taken as a joke. In Wakko's peripheral he could see Yakko's brows furrow as he approached Wakko. Dot already looked ready and rearing to go to smash the middle sibling with a mallet for saying something so harsh now that she had recovered from her initial surprise. 

"I'm sure it's just boring guy stuff, Dot," Yakko bluffed. "I promise you're not missing out on anything exciting." 

Why couldn't have Yakko swooped in _sooner_? And both of his siblings had _no_ idea how far from 'exciting' this particular conversation was going to be. Wakko's stomach already felt like it was somehow gnawing on itself. 

He had to get to the bottom of this though. He _had_ to. 

Dot watched both of her brothers head to the door through narrowed eyes. She waited exactly two _whole_ seconds before she slid out of her chair and headed towards the door, pressing her ears to the wood. Curiosity burned through her more than her illness did at the moment, all encompassing. 

To Dot's, ever increasing, frustration she couldn't hear _anything_. What was the point of having such big ears if she couldn't eavesdrop on her brothers who were too rude to speak in her presence? 

The Warner sister moved from the door, to a spot where the wood was especially weak and splintered, pressing her ears to it. Instead of hearing anything, she managed to get a splinter in her left ear. 

The youngest sibling winced, giving up on her initial task and instead fussed with her ear to get said splinter out. 

At the end of the day she'd just use her overwhelming cuteness to wheedle what her brothers had discussed from either Yakko or Wakko.

* * *

As soon as Yakko shut the water tower door behind himself and Wakko, the tension in his younger brother’s shoulders increased tenfold. 

Wakko wasn't the most confrontational sibling—that was usually Dot, with her mallet already in hand. He _had_ to know though...even if it sent his pulse skyrocketing, his heartbeat thumping in his ears. 

Yakko spared a glance towards the door behind him, "Why don't we go for a walk?" He suggested. "There's no doubt in my mind that Dot is already to trying to listen in." 

Wakko nodded, still struck mute as he mulled over just _how_ to broach the subject. His forte wasn't with words, the witty one-liners and devastating quips were best left to Yakko and Dot. 

Yakko, for once in his life, was silent. Wakko had....something on his mind. His younger brother looked uncharacteristically tense, his brows furrowed. Whatever he had to say, he'd say when he was ready. 

He hoped. 

The waiting was going to kill Yakko at this rate, wasn't it? Even while Wakko wasn't the most garrulous sibling—Yakko held that title by a landslide—Wakko was never **this** quiet. 

Just outside the edge of town Wakko came to a sudden halt. 

Yakko continued on two more steps before realizing, then stopped himself and turned to face his younger brother. "With this whole display I'm fully expecting you to confess to a murder," Yakko tried to lighten the mood with a paltry excuse for a joke, it seemed to bounce right off of Wakko as the middle child stared at him, clenching and unclenching his fists as if he were readying himself to throw a punch. 

That was worrisome. 

"Did you steal items from a dumpster?" Wakko asked, voice scant audible. 

Yakko froze, it felt like his heart had stuttered in its rhythm for just a second. "What?" He'd heard his brother, but his brain was taking its time processing his words. He was gobsmacked. 

How did Wakko know? How? He'd been so careful, he'd waited until his siblings were asleep! He'd washed off the smell—and had fallen ill thanks to the frigid water and weather altogether weakening his system. 

Wakko's stare was unwavering. "Did you steal the thread and cloth from a dumpster?" He clarified. 

Yakko was torn. The kneejerk reaction to deflect with a joke and some witty line was a near compulsion at this point, but...he didn't want to lie to his baby brother. He'd made it a clear precedent that none of the Warners lie to one another. Times were hard enough as it were, they didn't need extra strife from within their familial bonds. 

~~He refused to entertain the fact he'd lied by omission in the way he kept their true origins a secret. That...that was _different_.~~

"Where did you hear that?" Yakko instead questioned, neither confirming not denying the accusation.   
Wakko narrowed his eyes. He was oblivious to a lot of things, but even he could see what Yakko was doing. For a moment he debated on whether to ignore his brother’s question, but ultimately, he knew Yakko would just continue to retort with that same question over and over and _over_ to avoid giving a legitimate answer. 

“The tailor.” Wakko responded, pausing for a beat to scrutinize his older brother’s face, looking for any outward sign that what Wakko was accusing him of _had_ happened. 

Yakko’s tail flicked in irritation, and the set of his shoulders seemed to get tenser by a few degrees, but his expression remained impassive. 

Wakko spoke up once more. “He thought I was you.” 

Yakko flinched almost imperceptibly. He thought he’d been in the clear! He’d tucked away in that rancid dumpster for so long, and for _nothing_. Now his sibling—please let it only be **one** sibling that—knew. Yakko didn’t think he could mentally handle both of his younger siblings knowing the truth. 

“Does Dot...?” Yakko began, no longer keeping up pretenses. There was no point. Not when the tailor had sought Wakko out, mistaking him for Yakko—how that had occurred, Yakko would never understand. While all three Warners were short compared to adult humans, Yakko _towered_ over his siblings. It left Yakko to wonder: did the tailor really mistake Wakko for Yakko, or was he just content to sew distrust and chaos in the Warner family? 

Was Yakko being too harsh? Too paranoid? He couldn’t tell, couldn’t think of it in an objective way. He had spent so long distrusting those around him—especially adults—so the moment anyone had the opportunity to put the Warner siblings at a disadvantage, Yakko doubted they’d hesitate for even a moment to do it. It was just Yakko and his baby siblings versus the world. 

Which is...why he should have been honest with them from the start. 

But. **Not** about their parents. There was no way Yakko could emotionally handle bringing up the truth of what happened _that night_. 

“Know? No.” Wakko responded, crossing his arms. For once, his tongue wasn’t even lolling out of the side of his mouth, just further nailing in the point that Wakko was serious. “Didn’t want to upset her and...” He trailed off.

A Dot running off of high emotions was a coughing, _suffering_ Dot. He didn’t want to upset her if this was all somehow an honest mistake. With the way Yakko was acting though, he'd pretty much confirmed it without outright saying he'd done it.

Yakko grimaced as Wakko scowled.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Wakko demanded. For the quiet one of the Warner family, it felt like Yakko had been doused in cold water to have Wakko speaking to him in such an agitated manner. 

Yakko was struck between intense shame and irritation. Why did the tailor have to see him? Why did the tailor have to _say_ anything? It set Yakko’s fur on end, making him appear larger. 

Wakko didn't like the silence, especially not from his older brother that was known, far and wide, for his garrulous nature. 

Yakko’s gaze fell to the ground. “I don't have any sort of fancy excuse.” He finally responded. “Just know, everything I do, I try to do with the best intentions for the family in mind.” 

“What a way to avoid answering the question.” Wakko muttered. 

Yakko couldn't hide his open, honest surprise at the remark. He expected snide comments from Dot, that was her modus operandi, but Wakko? Not so much. He usually let his actions do the talking for him. 

Yakko crossed his arms. “Put yourself in my shoes for a second—” 

“Hard when you're not wearing any.” Wakko blurted out. 

Yakko rolled his eyes, before he continued. “My _metaphorical_ shoes. Would you have told me or **Dot** about this? Would you want to share how poor your situation is with those that rely on you for practically everything?” 

Wakko hated the ‘Dot argument’. Hated that it was even a _thing_ , but boy, was it effective. He would have been reticent to tell Yakko and Dot if their roles were reversed, but it still didn't make it morally _right_.

“You told us not to keep any secrets.” Wakko argued, “Why is it different when it's you?”

Yakko scrubbed at his face. The urge to retort _it just is_ was strong, but that was pretty childish, wasn't it? Then again, he wasn't that far off from being a child, he was just a teenager, after all. A teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, but a mere teenager nonetheless. 

“I just didn't think it was pertinent information.” Yakko responded, sounding exhausted, but it didn't even come close to reflecting just how bone-tired he felt. Fatigue clung to Yakko like a second skin, and arguing with his siblings—first Dot, now Wakko—served to exhaust him further. 

“You didn't think it was _pertinent_ to tell us you were _dumpster diving for sewing supplies_?” Wakko demanded.

Yakko gave a weak nod, pinching the bridge of his nose. It hadn't been that long since he'd recovered from his previous cold, and he still felt off from it, then the argument with his sister, and now this disagreement with his brother. What was next? Him getting thrown in jail? Taken away from his sibs? 

Yeah right. 

“How would telling you two how I got the supplies benefit us?” Yakko asked, tone weary. 

Wakko was silent, mulling over his question. He supposed it wouldn’t have, not really, but he wanted to know. He wanted to be there for his older brother like Yakko was there for him and Dot!

“I…don't know.” Wakko admitted, voice soft. “But we’re a _family_ , we promised to be honest with each other.”

Yakko could wax poetic about how ‘some promises had to be broken to keep his siblings happy’, but that wouldn’t fix the situation, nor would it make Wakko feel any better. Yakko could even reveal the true nature of their family lineage in a statement of ‘you want me to be completely honest? Hope you’re happy’, but Yakko wasn’t vindictive when it regarded his siblings. 

Instead, Yakko gave a slight nod, biting back the retort that had sprung to mind instantly. “You’re right, Wak. I’m sorry.”

The apology seemed to calm his younger brother’s righteous indignation, fur smoothing down back to a semi-normal state from where it had gotten puffed up in the midst of their disagreement. 

Yakko held his arms open and the middle child didn’t hesitate to hurry over to his older brother, wrapping his arms around Yakko and burying his face in Yakko’s fur. The hug was a bit too tight, borderline crushing actually, but Yakko didn't utter even a noise of complaint. Instead, the older brother returned the hug with one arm, the other patting the top of Wakko's head, trying not to disturb his brother’s red cap too much. 

“Let's go back home, okay? Dot's probably going crazy wondering what juicy gossip she's missing out on.” Yakko's voice was soft. 

Wakko was still for a moment before he gave a slight nod. 

Right. What were they going to tell Dot? Wakko, personally, wanted to tell the truth. Dot would sniff out a lie with ease and only get herself worked up in the process of trying to deduce the truth—with her mallet in hand. 

But…Wakko supposed it was up to Yakko in the end. He was the one out there taking scraps that no one else wanted to try and keep his family alive, at the very least, Wakko could let Yakko be the one to break the news…or not.

* * *

Ralph hated the cold. He hated the way it made his nose itch almost all the time. Hated the way icicles sometimes even appeared at the end of it, hanging down. 

But what he hated more than the cold, was doing _rounds in the cold_. He supposed it was part of his job, what he was given the uniform and fancy badge for. Still didn't make this any fun though. 

Maybe, if he did just one more cursory round along the edges of town, he could take an hour break inside the bakery. He'd rest on his laurels there longer, but for some weird reason it felt like the baker—and his wife for that matter—didn't like him. He was sure it was just him being mistaken, but still, better not to push it. 

Especially when the baker made such amazing raisin loaves. 

Ralph swung his baton in one hand as he meandered about. He kicked at a small pile of snow at his feet, grimacing as some of the cold and wet sank in through holes in his boots, soaking his sock. 

“Why didn't you tell us?” 

A voice made Ralph pause, catching his attention. It sounded familiar, and like it was coming from someone young. 

Ralph switched directions, heading towards the voice. 

A few seconds later another individual responded: “I don't have any sort of fancy excuse…” This voice sounded slightly older.

What was going on? Excuse for what? 

Ralph _had_ to know. Wasn't it his job to know what was happening to Acme Falls' denizens, after all? 

He picked up the pace, making sure to keep a wall between himself and the voices as a way to conceal himself. He didn't want their conversation to end because they realized they weren't alone. 

Ralph pressed himself against the wall of an abandoned store, trying to keep from being spotted—as if he would be able to hide his protruding stomach. 

Luckily for him it seemed the two talking—the older Warners, if Ralph was hearing right—were too entrenched in their disagreement to have noticed him. From his position, he could hear everything and even see a good deal of their altercation. 

“I just didn't think it was pertinent information.” Yakko was speaking, arms crossed as he faced his younger brother. 

“You didn't think it was _pertinent_ to tell us you were _dumpster diving for sewing supplies_?” Wakko demanded, throwing out his arms, it lost some of its impact as his hands were completely covered by oversized sweater arms.

Ralph’s eyes narrowed. Yakko had stolen something? That was highly illegal! But…could Ralph arrest a child—no, a teenager? He'd have to ask Plotz, he was the one running things in this town, after all. 

The officer turned and hurried off, forgetting his previous dislike of the cold in the midst of his drive to go and tell the baron of Yakko's _grievous_ crime.

* * *

It was early in the morning, much, _much_ too early for any sensible person to be up at this hour kind of early when there was a banging on the water tower door. 

It sent all three Warner siblings shooting up in their respective beds. 

Yakko was **livid** , the outright rage he felt at being woken so early intensified tenfold when he spotted Dot pulling open the curtain to her ‘room’, her free hand rubbing at her eyes as she tried to clear the sleep from them. She looked to Yakko—and with a quick glance to where Wakko normally slept, realized Dot wasn’t the only one watching the oldest Warner sibling with equal parts concern and curiosity. 

Whoever this asshole was that was waking him and his siblings better have a damned good reason. 

Yakko tried fix the tuft of fur atop his head as he headed towards the door, tail swishing in an outward sign of his obvious aggravation. 

He yanked the door open a bit too rough, the door cried out on rusty hinges, and Yakko winced at that. Whoops. No matter how angry he was, he needed to be _careful_ , their home wasn’t the most....structurally sound. 

Yakko paused as he realized it was _Plotz_ standing outside their door, flanked on his left by Ralph. 

What the hell? 

Yakko glanced back to his siblings, shooting them both a sharp look that conveyed: _what did you two do **this** time?_

Both of his siblings just shook their heads in response, looking just as bewildered as Yakko felt. 

Yakko looked back to the two men at his door, “What I can I, uhhhh do for you two on this lovely morning?” He questioned, scrambling to recall any and every possible slight the Warners could have committed against the baron for him to _deign_ the Warner household with his presence. 

Nothing came to mind. 

Plotz looked smug, and that served to make Yakko worry even more. What had they done? Either actually done or just accused of doing. 

“You really don't know why I’m here?” Plotz asked, sounding smug. 

“I wouldn't have asked if I knew, Plotzy.” Yakko retorted. 

The nickname made Plotz's expression shift from smug to annoyed in a second flat. 

“Why, my dear Yakko Warner, I am here to oversee justice being done—” 

“You're going to get a haircut and a real outfit?” Yakko interrupted. 

Plotz pointedly ignored Yakko's comment. Nothing could ruin this for him. “Why, I'm afraid I'm going to have to _arrest you._ ” 

There was the knee-jerk reaction to slam the door in their faces, to at least buy a bit more time for Yakko to process just _what in the hell was going on_ , but Ralph would be able to smash through the door and turn it into splinters with almost comical ease—and that would allow the elements into the decrepit water tower even more, neither of his siblings would be able to handle that much cold that consistently. Yakko forced himself to keep a cool head, though his fur had long puffed up, trying to make him appear bigger, more intimidating, more of a _threat_. 

It was hard to be a threat when he was not even four feet tall, at best, and more gangly than anything. 

Part of Yakko could hear his siblings scrambling to come to his side, as if they were going to protect _him_ , but everything sounded **off** , everything felt _distorted_ , like he was hearing the conversation while he was stuck underwater. 

This wasn’t the first time it had occurred, and at this rate, it wouldn’t be the last either. 

He couldn’t seem to make himself _focus_ the way he wanted to, like he was separated from his body and yet he could distinctly hear the rapid thrumming of his heart in his ears. He knew his siblings were each clinging to his pants, but he couldn’t _feel_ it. 

As if someone else was controlling his mouth he could hear himself say: “I don’t, uhhh, I don’t understand. I haven’t done anything **wrong**.” 

Plotz’s condescending laughter followed Yakko’s statement. He even wiped a tear from his eye before he adjusted his oversized hat. 

“You don’t really think I’m foolish enough to fall for _that_ , do you?” 

For once, Yakko wished he had been joking. The words were out of Yakko’s mouth before he could stop himself. “I don’t know, you believed whoever told you that hat looked good on you.” 

Yakko cringed at his own inability to shut up, especially in tense situations, like this one. 

Plotz’s amused expression was replaced with rage within a split second, his hands clenched and unclenched as he leveled a glare at the oldest Warner sibling. 

“You know,” Plotz began through gritted teeth, jabbing his index finger in Yakko's direction. “I was going to be merciful. I was going to let you off scot-free if you simply **paid** for the items you pilfered from the dumpster—which belongs to the King, and therefore is under my purview—plus a _little_ extra, a fee for a Baron such as myself making a home visit,” Plotz straightened his shirt, looking proud of himself. “But after that comment, I’ve changed my mind. _Unless_ you can pay two gold pieces, it looks like you'll have to spend some time in jail.” 

Yakko let out a bitter, frustrated, **enraged** laugh. Was he _serious_?! Did he really think that the Warners had anything close to that amount? If they did, then Dot— 

Yakko didn’t want to dwell on his shortcomings as the eldest sibling regarding fixing his baby sister's condition. 

Plotz had a mirthful glint in his eye that made Yakko, for all intents and purposes of the word, want to go **feral** , and Yakko was not one to feel like that on the norm. It took everything Yakko had in himself to not offer a scathing retort or to even grab Plotz by his nonexistent neck and throttle him. 

If Plotz hadn't been so damned content to bleed the town dry, to watch as the town hemorrhaged shop after shop _after shop_ , then Yakko might not have been so livid, then perhaps they would have been able to scrounge up enough money doing odd jobs to get the surgery his sister oh-so-desperately needed to survive. At this rate he wasn't certain she'd last through two more winters, and that was if the coming winters were _mild_. 

Yakko loathed and despised the king—for obvious reasons—but Plotz was becoming a close **second**. 

“Well…?” Plotz let his question trail off, pausing to let it linger in the air. “Able to pay your bail or no, Warner?” 

Yakko’s claws unsheathed under his gloves without conscious thought, another outward—though subtle—sign of how enraged he was. The gloveless finger was the only way one could see, with ease, that Yakko was upset enough to reveal such am animalistic aspect of his toon self. 

It felt like his back was against the wall and there was nothing he could do to claw his way out of said corner. 

How in the world was he supposed to protect his siblings while he was locked away? How were his siblings supposed to survive without him there to make sure everything was okay ~~, or at least as okay as they could be, given the circumstances~~. What if something happened to Dot while he was gone? What if she—

Cold steel against his right wrist jarred him from his swirling, suffocating thoughts. Ralph had placed one shackle on, getting ready to slap it on Yakko’s other wrist. 

Yakko could feel his siblings shift from clinging to his pants to try and stand in front of him, as if to shield him. A dizzying shift from their usual dynamic. 

A glance down towards his siblings revealed they'd already grabbed a mallet each from their respective hammerspaces. 

Abort. _Abort._ If his siblings drew more of Plotz’s ire then the baron could extend Yakko's stay—or worse, drag his siblings to jail as well. 

“It's fine, it's okay.” He assured them, shaking his head as both siblings looked up at him questioningly. 

It _wasn't_ fine. It _wasn't_ okay. Yakko was **terrified**! Terrified for himself and for his siblings. It was a lot to rest on a teenager's shoulders. Too much, even. 

This was all just _too much_. Everything bad just seemed so unrelenting, one problem after another with no chance to recover in the slightest. 

But he had to at least fake strength while his siblings were looking up to him with wide and frightened eyes, clutching their mallets as if they were lifelines. 

And he had to appear strong in front of Plotz, no way was he giving the greedy _leech_ the satisfaction of seeing Yakko fall apart or even just falter in the slightest. 

“You know,” Yakko forced his voice to be lighter, less bothered than he actually felt, there was an undercurrent of something vulnerable there, but he continued on. “I don’t think gray is my color. You got a set of these in lavender?” 

Ralph looked bewildered while Plotz just scowled. 

“Your ‘jokes' may amuse your siblings, but they're not going to grant you any leniency with me.” Plotz retorted, waving a dismissive hand in Yakko's direction. “You've already wasted too much of my valuable time. If you don't want to face more time or a harsher fine, just get in the carriage. Make it easy on all of us.”

There was no room for argument in Plotz's tone. Yakko still had to fight the urge to bail. He'd find a way out of those shackles—he was a toon, after all, nothing could truly hold him, right? Definitely not for decades at a time. 

Bailing, while something he could have done with relative ease if he was an only child, was **not** viable with two younger siblings in tow—and that fact was compounded tenfold with Dot's illness. He couldn't—no, he _wouldn't_ —put his sibs through that. 

He would have to grin and bear his sentence and hope he could finagle his way into shortening his jail time. 

Yakko looked over his shoulder at his siblings. “Wakko, keep an eye on Dot for me, okay?” 

Wakko nodded, though it was stilted. The middle child felt numb, _helpless_. There was nothing he—nor Dot—could do to help their brother. 

It was all his fault, wasn't it? 

The only reason that Plotz knew was because Ralph had heard Wakko and Yakko talking, had reported it to the baron. 

If Wakko had kept his mouth shut, pretended to be none-the-wiser, then this wouldn't be happening. 

Everything would have been okay. 

Ralph opened the door to the carriage and Plotz hopped in first, in any other situation, watching someone as short as Plotz scramble into the carriage would have been hilarious, would have spawned plenty of material in Yakko's mind, but right now there was not a shred of amusement in Yakko's mind. 

Yakko followed suit at Ralph's behest, taking a seat opposite of Plotz. The carriage groaned as Ralph took his spot at the reins. 

Plotz looked out the carriage window, gaze resting on the younger Warner siblings. “Such a shame you couldn’t just be a law-abiding citizen, now we both have to suffer.” 

Both? **Both**?! How was Plotz suffering? Actually having to leave his abode filled to the brim with items he'd taken from the citizens of the very town he was supposed to oversee? And, even then, all he had to do was walk to his carriage and let _Ralph_ do all the work!

Yakko grit his teeth, clenching his hands into fists. He glared down at the shackles secured around his wrists. 

When was the last time he'd been separated from his siblings for anything other than hunting or getting supplies from town? 

Anxiety shot through Yakko from head to toe as he recalled the night he'd left Wakko in charge of keeping an eye on Dot as he'd taken the time to search for their parents within the castle. 

The memories struck Yakko like he'd been hit full-force by a frigid ocean wave, he couldn't help but shake, shoulders trembling as his heart rate spiked. 

Calm down. He needed to just…just _calm **down**_. 

Yeah right. As if just thinking that would work. 

Yakko had to hurriedly blink back tears. No way was he showing any sort of weakness in front of Plotz. 

He’d never admit it out loud, but he was _afraid_ , hell, he was even **lonely**. Having other individuals in close proximity meant nothing is the company was _this_ horrid. 

Yakko oscillated between missing his siblings and worry over just what was going to happen to himself. How long was Plotz going to try and keep him locked away from his family? What if something happened to Wakko or Dot—or even _both_ of them—in his absence? 

He’d bring it up now, but he doubted Plotz would give him a straight answer, and he might extend the time if he deemed Yakko ‘irritating’. He couldn’t afford that mentally, and his siblings couldn’t afford it safety and health-wise. 

The carriage took off with a jolt, and Plotz continued to stare out the window, looking almost _bored_ even as they passed the town. 

It bewildered Yakko how Plotz could look at the dilapidated buildings, the worn out denizens milling about, and just… _not care_. How could he be so disaffected? Was he that apathetic? Was his greed just that strong? Or was it a mixture of the two?

Did Plotz actually think he could continue bleeding the town dry at such an exorbitant rate _forever_? 

Surely he was at least intelligent enough to realize this plan of his was not viable in the long term. 

Did he even care? 

Yakko didn't have a chance to dwell on such a quandry. The carriage came to a halt not long after, and Yakko was left staring at the town's jail: standing strong and imperious. A stark contrast to the rest of the town. 

Plotz took a moment to straighten his hat and his shirt as he waited for Ralph to open the door, such a task was _beneath_ the baron, after all. 

The door opened and Plotz hopped out without hesitation, then both Plotz and Ralph looked to Yakko. The eldest Warner sibling felt his pulse skyrocket once more. 

It was _real_ now. There was no chance of this all being some sort of elaborate prank—not that Plotz would waste his time on anything not related to lording his power over others or gaining wealth—or some sort of….something else, _anything_ else other than what this actually was. 

“We don't have all day.” Plotz's tone and posture radiated haughtiness. “Some of us are productive members of society, after all.” 

Yakko bit his tongue so hard he was surprised it wasn’t bleeding. The retort _Surely you're not talking about yourself, Plotzy_ was nigh impossible to tamp down. But he managed. He couldn't risk a longer sentence, couldn’t incense Plotz, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Still, he took his time getting out. Almost lackadaisical as he took one slow step after another, drawing it out as long as possible, taking a smug sort of satisfaction in watching Plotz get more and more irritated. 

Finally, Yakko was out and left staring at the jail.

“You know, with a fresh coat of paint and some furniture, this place could look awful homey.” Yakko commented, “I could help you with that….for a fee, of course.” 

Plotz rolled his eyes, “You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are.” 

“ _Not nearly as_ implies that I am still humorous to a degree, so you do find me funny.” Yakko pointed out. He couldn't stop himself from talking, the more frayed his nerves, the more he had to talk, had to fill the empty air, had to find some sort of validation that yes, he was intelligent and quick-witted. 

“Just start walking.” Plotz ordered, his face was taking on a reddish hue in his anger. 

Yakko started walking _away_ from where he knew they wanted him to go. At least up until Ralph grabbed him by his scruff. 

“You didn't say which way.” Yakko explained, unabashed, grinning ear-to-ear. Irritation flickered through Yakko, grabbing him by the scruff or the ears was a definite no-go in his book—not that anyone seemed to care. 

Plotz and Ralph ignored him as Ralph continued to carry Yakko—it was easier than allowing the toon to pull any more stunts. At the cell, Ralph fished in his pocket for the keys, unlocked the metal door and slid it open before throwing the toon inside.

Ralph slid the door shut as Yakko stood, still shackled. 

The toon outright _flinched_ as Ralph locked the door. 

The sound of the cotter pins turning because of the key rang out with finality. 

Ralph and Plotz watched the toon for a moment, both of their expressions impassive, before they turned and departed. 

Yakko was alone. For the first time in….forever he was actually, truly **alone**. Yakko was hyperventilating at this point, his pulse was tachycardic, he could hear nothing over the cacophony of his own ragged breathing and his bounding heartbeat. 

He missed his siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update! Hope it was worth the wait! 😄💖💖💖💖
> 
> I do want to take a moment to suggest another fic, it's short and sweet and I love it: 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/28871721
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, I hope you have a lovely day! 😄💖💖💖💖
> 
> 💖😄Your kudos and comments make my day!😄💖

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this! All comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> If you want to yell about this fic or just animaniacs in general my tumblr is jewish-gaylaxy  
> Have a lovely day :D


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